


Master and Knight

by shadowglove88



Series: Master And... Series [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Culturally Encouraged Sexual Deviance, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Alternate Universe - War, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Ass Play, Attempted Seduction, BAMF Merlin, Begging, Begging For Anal, Begging For Cock, Biting, Bloody Kisses, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Arthur, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Bottom Merlin (past), Bottom Simon of Northumbria (Merlin), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Catamites, Chair Sex, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Claiming sex, Clothed Sex, Cock Slut, Cock Tease, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Come Swallowing, Comfort Sex, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, Curses, Dark, Dark Arthur, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Dark Merlin, Dark Past, Dark Sexual Fantasy, Demon Mate, Demon Sex, Demonstrative Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Established Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Floor Sex, Forehead Kisses, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Fucked Up, Gay, Gay Concubine, Gay Sex, Gay Society, Grief/Mourning, Grooming, Hand Jobs, Horny Arthur, Insecure Arthur, Intimacy, Jealous Arthur, Jealous Arthur Pendragon, Kink, Kinky, Large Cock, Light Masochism, Love Bites, Loving Sex, M/M, Magic Cock, Magical Bond, Magical Sex Addiction, Male Concubine, Male Homosexuality, Marathon Sex (referenced), Masochist Arthur Pendragon, Massage, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Mates, Mating Bites, Memories, Mentor/Protégé, Mind Control, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mind Meld, Mind Palace, Mind Rape, Mind Sex, Mindfuck, Mutual Masturbation, Near Death Experiences, Neck Kissing, Needy Arthur, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Men/Younger Men, Oral Sex, Orgy, Ownership, Past Cheating, Past Evil Merlin, Past Infidelity, Past Mean Merlin, Past Relationship(s), Past Sadistic Merlin, Past Sexual Abuse, Perversion, Picks off right after Master and Ally ends, Political Alliances, Prostate Massage, Protective Arthur, Public Claiming, Public Display of Affection, Public Fucking - Freeform, Public Sex, Punishment, Revelations, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sadist Merlin, Seduction, Seduction to the Dark Side, Seeing the Past, Semi-Public Sex, Service Submission, Sex Addiction, Sex Education, Sex Enhancing Magic, Sex Incense, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, Sex Tutor, Sexual Grooming, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Submission, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sleepy Boys, Squick, Succubi & Incubi, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Teaching By Example, Teasing, Tender Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Merlin, Top Simon of Northumbria (Merlin), Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vaginal Sex, Verbal seduction, Visions, Wall Sex, court intrigue, dark rituals, dirty fantasies, dubious consent due to magic, magical connection, mental seduction, northumbria, sex ed, sexual perversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: Northumbria's alliance with Mercia might add numbers that they desperately need, but King Simon's past with Merlin, his natural ability and cunning insight into how best to incite Merlin's demon's darker impulses - as well as his conditions for the alliance - could prove problematic for Merlin's and Arthur's future.There's also a couple of other issues to worry other than the war:*Who is the traitor in Mercia?*Why did Bayard need Camelot?*What has Merlin been trying to research and find for Bayard all this time?And, most importantly: what's the big deal with the upcoming dark moon?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This segment will contain Northumbrian literal mindfuckery of epic proportions. Like, Merlin, Arthur, and Camelot can't even. So. Yeah. Warning.

 

"I  _will_  be there." Morgana was pale, her hair a mess and the Queen was still in her nightgown, and yet there was determination in her tear-stained eyes. She sat next to the body of her husband, the Queen looking so vulnerable and yet strong at the same time, and for the first time Merlin could truly believe that the Queen had loved Bayard because one couldn't fake the pain in her every feature.

"My Queen, in your condition-,” Cassius begun. He’d come to the queen’s quarters after ascertaining that Guinevere and Owain, who were still sleeping, were out of danger. Behind them, on the marriage bed, the king’s body lay lifeless, but no one could find it in them to speak of it now, not with the blow so great, so recent. Not with the pressing issues already demanding their full attention.

" _No_." Morgana stopped the court physician short. "I will  _not_  have someone like  _King Simon_  come here and believe us vulnerable due to the king's passing." She raised her chin. "There is still a queen on this throne and an heir in her womb. Mercia will live on. She will thrive." Her sharp blues turned on Merlin. "And those who were fool enough to touch our king will pay with more than their lives." Her fists clenched in the bedsheets. "They'll pay with their  _souls_."

He nodded his agreement, his silent promise.

The queen's gaze turned to Sefa, who stood worrying in the corner, eyeing her queen in obvious concern. "Get a gown ready, and my crown. I will meet King Simon in the throne room."

Sefa’s worried gaze went to Merlin before returning to her Queen and nodding. "Of course."

"My Queen, no one would think less of you if you did not do this,” Lancelot whispered softly.

" _He_ would." Morgana's gaze rested on her husband's body, her hand slowly going to his cold, lifeless one before her hardened blues turned on the knight. "He would never have married me if I were the type to cower and hide while seeking protection." She stood, seeming every bit the queen she was. "He married me because he knew that if this were to happen I would be the queen this country needs." She gulped. "And now more than ever Mercian needs a  _strong_  queen."

Arthur never spoke, but it was obvious that he disapproved of Morgana putting herself in more danger.

Merlin, on the other hand, merely bowed respectfully. "As you wish My Queen."

Her gaze was grateful on him for his support as she nodded. "Sir Lancelot, you will meet King Simon and his men, welcome them to Mercia and yet be ever on the alert for some sort of treachery. You will bring him and only four of his entourage into the throne room when I send for you. Let him wait to be beckoned, it will let him know that we are not paupers begging for him or his favors."

"Of course Your Majesty." Lancelot bowed at his waist before turning and leaving the room to follow the orders given him.

Sefa was already searching through Morgana's gowns for an appropriate one given the grave circumstances.

Morgana turned her blue gaze on her half brother, ever shrewd, examining. "You should hurry and change as well."

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly. "Change into what, exactly?"

Her gaze went to Merlin before returning to Arthur as she took in a deep breath, clear defeat and hardened resolve in her expression. "Mercian blue." She raised her chin. "If I am to use you, you must represent me and my kingdom. You have training as Head Knight of Camelot. Now that you live in  _my_  court you're a Knight of Mercia and will wear the colors to prove your loyalty." Her gaze went to the window. "Especially when in mixed company."

Arthur eyed his half sister before surprising Merlin stiff when he merely bowed his head. "As you wish."

Morgana's gaze turned on Merlin. "I assume you will stand by my side when Simon enters the room, as you would have my husband's."

It was stated, and yet…

Merlin nodded, clasping his hands in front of him.

Morgana unclenched her fists. "Now leave, the two of you. We have a king to entertain."

Merlin and Arthur both bowed before exiting the room, closing it back behind them, motioning to the guards posted at the doors as they began striding towards their rooms.

Arthur spoke softly, head inclined towards the sorcerer. "How do we know if Simon is working with my uncle and the traitor? It is very convenient timing for him to arrive."

"We cannot know. Not for sure,” Merlin admitted, frustrated with this, his voice lowered as well. "But we must bide our time, and keep our enemies close. The traitor will be exposed, as will Simon's involvement in this, if he has any at all."

"You do not seem to believe he does." Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I won’t presume to truly know Simon," Merlin replied. "But from our brief acquaintance Simon proved himself sharp and blunt." His lips twitched in wry amusement. "I have always considered it one of his more beguiling qualities-his inability to-or better said his  _distaste_  for intrigue." Merlin shook his head, amused with memories he hadn't given much thought to for a very long time. "If he wanted someone, detested someone-he never hid it." He chuckled darkly. "He's an arrogant little brat though, with enough bravado to be here to bargain a truce for high costs."

"You sound almost  _approving,_ ” Arthur grumbled with a narrowed gaze.

"Taking advantage of any sort of weakness - especially the very obvious - is a very Mercian trait." Merlin shrugged, not really thinking much about it. "Bayard lost esteem for your father when he realized that Uther  _hadn't_  purposely planted you in my bed. Despite the fact that he’d hated my breakdown after you were rescued, he’d respected Uther for being capable of planning and perfectly executing such a dishonorable plan."

Arthur shook his head at Merlin as he brought his hand to his forehead, as if that revelation gave him a bit of a headache. "I'll never understand Mercians, no matter how _hard_ I try. You're all twisted."

"That we are,” Merlin as they entered Merlin’s - _their_ \- chambers. Most of Arthur’s things were still in his old room though from where Merlin had magicked them during their argument, but considering Arthur did not have blue Mercian robes amongst his possessions their absence did not really matter.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin from behind like he had earlier, resting his forehead against Merlin’s shoulder blades. “I’m so sorry, Merlin. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Closing his eyes against the flood of darkness and self-hatred, Merlin gripped the hands around his waist, welcoming the comfort Arthur offered despite the fact that he didn’t believe he deserved it. “How can I go there, stand by Morgana, and act as if I am worthy to protect this kingdom when I failed my king?”

“You didn’t fail Bayard, Merlin, Bayard could have chosen to revoke his order to you in order to save his own life, but he did not,” Arthur whispered into his back softly. “He did not, he chose to protect Owain’s life over his own.” His grip tightened around Merlin. “I used to think so very little of Bayard because of his treatment of Owain, for leaving him in the lowly position of a mere manservant instead of—-but he _died_ to protect Owain. I’m sorry, Merlin, I should not have judged him the way I did.” 

Turning in that embrace, Merlin cupped Arthur’s face and lifted it to his, kissing the exiled prince softly, tasting sorrow in his lips and somehow taking comfort from it. He wanted to find true comfort, complete comfort, nestled deep inside of the blonde, but with King Simon’s presence any sort of solace would have to wait.

A knock sounded on the door, and Arthur sighed unhappily into Merlin’s lips seconds before the sorcerer pulled away enough to call out: “Come in.”

Roarke, one of the serving boys, appeared, robes of Mercian blue in his hands. “I have been asked to bring you these, Prince Arthur.”

“Thank you, Roarke,” Arthur sighed as he slipped out of Merlin’s embrace and took the robes from him.

“I have been instructed by Queen Morgana to assist you from now on as you no longer have your own manservant,” Roarke surprised them by declaring nervously. 

Arthur looked completely shocked. It had been a clear disrespect on his station as prince that no one had been made his manservant once he’d lost Cedric during the coup, and yet instead of looking pleased at this new development, at this acknowledgment of his rank and importance, Arthur seemed unnerved and unhappy. “I don’t need you.”

Roarke looked up at him in shock and a little worry. “Have I done something to offend you, Prince Arthur?”

The blonde sighed and lowered his head for a second before shaking his head. “I’m not a prince anymore, Roarke, not in the way I used to be at least. I understand that she might be doing this for appearances sake, and I do not have anything against you personally, but the idea of having a manservant right now is just…” He shifted the things in his hands so he could free one and motion to Merlin with it. “I serve _him_ , now. I might have been born to lead a kingdom, but I _chose_ to belong to him, and while I may have duties outside of being his consort - which I _will_ become - he is my priority, and I do not need your help in tending to him.”

Merlin’s eyes widened.

So did Roarke’s, but he looked far less concerned than he had moments ago. In fact, he was smiling brightly. “I completely understand, Prince Arthur, and thank you for explaining why. I want you to know that even though Mordred still has his faithful, there are many in the Court - myself included - who not only approve of your relationship, but who anxiously await your appointment as Consort to the Grand Court Sorcerer.”

Arthur’s eyes were wide, clearly not having expected that, before he smiled genuinely at Roarke. “I will not let you down.”

Roarke’s smile was large. “And while I understand your reasons for declining me as a manservant, please know that you can seek me out if you have need of any assistance, or even if you need something clarified or such.”

“Thank you Roarke, I will,” Arthur promised.

Clearly incredibly pleased at this outcome, Roarke grinned at Arthur, at Merlin, and then gave a little bow. “With your leave, sires.” And with that he closed the door and left.

This time it was Merlin who wrapped his arm around Arthur’s body as he pulled him to his chest, resting his chin on the crown of Arthur’s head. “Are you sure that was the right thing to do?” He wasn’t complaining, his inner demon was rejoicing at this surprising turn of events, but the human part of him whispered guiltily about Arthur’s position as prince of a kingdom, even if that kingdom were not his anymore. “As the heir of Camelot you—-.”

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted him. “If I didn’t want to return to Camelot while I was nothing but a slave, do you really think I would want to now that I am so close to being your Consort?”

The Grand Court Sorcerer tightened his grip on the blonde. He didn’t want to admit that, for the first time since they’d started the Acquisition, that Arthur had other options, _better_ options. Sure, things had been different when Bayard had been alive, not only had Merlin been bound to the king’s desires by his oath, but he would’ve given Bayard Camelot even if he hadn’t. Now though, with Bayard’s death, things might seem muddled for Arthur, he might think things were different for Merlin, but it may be in many ways, just not when it came to the blonde’s kingdom. 

“Arthur,” he whispered into that blonde hair. “I am still going to take Camelot for Mercia. Bayard’s death does not change that it _has_ to be done, in fact, it means that it must happen even quicker than we’d thought.”

Letting the Mercian blue robes fall to the ground, Arthur rubbed his hands over the ones wrapped tightly around him. “Why did Bayard need Camelot, Merlin?”

He inhaled deeply, finally able to tell someone else about it now that his oath of obedience was shattered. “There was a curse that he was forced to live with.”

Arthur tensed in sudden understanding. “And it did not die with Bayard.”

“No, it is tied to the members of the royal family, it was why he did not take Owain as a consort, as it would make him an extension of Bayard and cause the curse to infect him as well. Bayard had already had to stand helplessly and watch his mother, father, older brother _and_ Marguerite die because of it. He only took Morgana as his wife as it would take a while to get its clutches in her, and he was sure that we would win the war long before that happened.” Merlin closed his eyes tightly. “Upon his death it would have transferred fully to his unborn child and its mother.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on him. “And joining Mercia and Camelot will somehow nullify this curse? Destroy it?” 

“It’s the beginning to a cure, or at least of a way to stall the effects and give us more time to stop it once and for all before it can claim more lives,” Merlin admitted with a sigh, pressing a kiss into Arthur’s hair as he pulled away. “There is no time to speak of these things now, your sister will be expecting us soon. Come, I will help you with your robes.”

Despite clearly having a million questions and wanting to continue with their previous conversation, Arthur let himself be pulled away, let Merlin disrobe him, leaving him naked, bare. The prince shivered in reaction when Merlin pressed a kiss to his shoulder, yet he didn’t complain when the sorcerer pulled away to continued dressing him. Merlin commended Arthur on his self-control.

“I should be doing this to you,” Arthur said softly as Merlin fastened the Mercian blue cape. “I am still surprised _you_ do not have a manservant to do this for you.”

“Bayard complained about that a lot since someone of my position should have one, and I used to when I was younger, but I did not enjoy the attention, not when my magic can take care of all of my needs.” Merlin used his magic to handle attaching the cape as he was having issues. “At that time in my life I could not handle the idea of having someone with that sort of access into my chambers, and my magic would not abide it, it made poor Quinn’s life hell. Finally Bayard admitted defeat and allowed Quinn to move onto a better, less stressful, position, and I have been tending to myself ever since.” He tilted his head to the side before pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips. “Although I do not mind it when _you_ tend to me, in fact, I might kind of enjoy it.” He smiled softly. “I suppose that is half of the reason why Bayard assigned you to be my Personal Guard, because he realized you were the only one I accepted close enough to take care of me and tend to my needs.”

It struck Merlin how he wouldn't have the often monthly argument with Bayard ever again, the sorcerer resting with his hand on the wall as he fought the desire to just crumble and cry. The queen was being strong, was pushing back her emotions and thinking of Mercia before herself, and Merlin took comfort and strength from her, doing the same. This wasn't the time to mourn, it was the time to fight.

Steeling himself, Merlin pulled away and surveyed his work, immediately freezing, not having realizing that this was not only the first time that he’d actually seen in Mercian colors, but wearing the garb of a knight of the realm. See Arthur in Merlin’s colors, with Merlin’s kingdom's emblem across his chest-it seemed all the more claiming.

“You’re staring, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur noted, obviously uncomfortable and self-conscious.

"It suits you." Merlin finally found his voice, clearing his throat as his magic went to work, dressing his appropriately for this sort of meeting. He looked much like he would in battle with his squadron, all in black, yet his hood was not pulled over his head as it would have been during battle.

"Camelot  _red_  suits me." Arthur could never take a compliment, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "I feel as if I am playing dress up."

"Well, you'll have to fool Simon into believing that you are at home in Mercian blue, so stop fidgeting.” Merlin’s lips twitched at the way Arthur stopped fidgeting the second that word escaped his mouth.

"I was raised as of the true ruler of Camelot, trained as would be expected of it's rightful heir and prince regent." Arthur was downright pouting. "I do not  _fidget_."

Merlin snorted in amusement as he gave a mock bow. "Of  _course_  your Highness."

Arthur sent him a little look that looked both annoyed and amused, but he didn't say anything as they made their way from Merlin's chambers to the throne room, where they found Lancelot and the court already waiting. They took their places on each side of the throne, Arthur visibly keeping himself from fidgeting in his new colors, staring ahead of him and training his expression to one of annoyance and boredom. He could so easily slip back into his ‘Crown Prince Arthur’ role it was admirable.

The queen entered the room, poised and graceful, ashen yet resolute as she moved to the throne, hesitating only when she first gazed upon the king's throne. She stared at it, fists clenched at her sides, before she ordered her old throne be removed. The men did as told, the queen not seeming to notice as she continued to stare at the king's throne, visibly distressed only for a second before she too, like Arthur, trained her face to regal boredom and moved towards the throne. Morgana turned, staring at the court, before finally lowering herself upon her husband's throne, Queen Regent.

"The king is dead,” Merlin announced as Morgana continued to stare numbly ahead of her, her crown seeming heavier on her head tonight. "Long live the Queen."

"Long live the Queen!" The soldiers echoed, proving that their loyalties were now to their queen after the death of her husband despite the fact that she was not of Mercian birth.

Morgana took in a deep breath before nodding, turning to Lancelot. "Have King Simon and only four of his men enter."

"Of course, My Queen." Lancelot turned and ordered his men to do so, everyone prepared for when the orders were followed out and the doors to the throne opened.

Merlin's curious yet wary gaze went to King Simon, surprised at how much had change and yet how much hadn't. The young king now wore his father's crown and held himself in a way that wasn't different from when he'd been the laid back prince, and yet those dark eyes were flashing with mischief when they slide onto Merlin.

"I am told condolences are to be extended, Queen Morgana." Simon's men stopped as he moved closer towards the throne, giving a little bow of his head. "King Bayard was a good man who shall be missed and mourned."

"By none more than his own people,” Morgana assured bluntly, eyeing the young King. "Forgive me for showing such distrust, King Simon, but you must understand that in a war, and having just lost my husband, we cannot as a kingdom be too careful with whom we let within our gates."

"Tis true, Mercia has many enemies of late,” Simon agreed conversationally, as if this was not quite that worrisome. "And yet Northumbria is not one of your enemies but a friend, as it should have always have been." He'd grown smoother in character since Merlin had last seen him. "I come to you offering an alliance between our two kingdoms, to drive back the forces of Camelot and everyone who should wish to harm such a great and noble kingdom as Mercia."

Morgana eyed him thoughtfully, shrewdly. "And what would you wish for in return of this… kindness… of yours?"

"Other than a more  _permanent_  alliance between our countries, one which would be mutually beneficial?" King Simon's gaze slid once more to Merlin before returning to Morgana. "I would ask for the use of your Court Sorcerer." He paused for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts before continuing. "There is a magical problem that we have been facing for quite a while now in silence, and it is only with the help of someone with the power Merlin possess that I can hope to save my kingdom and people."

"You believe you can bargain with the people of Mercia?" Lord Valiant snarled.

" _Silence_." Morgana snarled at him, shutting the man up, yet he was visibly displeased with it.

Merlin could feel Arthur tensing, hand on his sword's hilt as he eyed the disgruntled lord, ready to draw his sword should Lord Valiant move untowardly.

Morgana was tense as well, although for different reasons than Arthur. She knew that with the death of her husband Merlin no longer answered to anyone, and she could not make any agreement which concerned him without enquiring of him first, and yet to do so would prove to King Simon that she did not have as much power as she needed him to believe she had. Should King Simon realize that he did not need Mercia’s agreement, merely Merlin’s, he might withdraw his offer of alliance.

"What is the root of your magical ailment?" Merlin wanted to know, drawing the king's dark gaze on him once more.

"I am glad you asked, Merlin." King Simon drew closer, shifting to almost give the queen his back, but stopping only _just_ before he did, proving that while he was truly here for Merlin he understood that insulting the queen of Merlin’s kingdom was not the way to go about this. "Do you know of an old acquaintance of Mercia’s? One by the name of Osgar?"

Merlin tensed at the unexpected mention of _that_ man, his eyes narrowed, knowing nothing good would come from this. "It would be hard to forget such a man."

"The sorcerer Osgar and my father fell out with disastrous consequences. To be honest at the time it happened I did not know my father had business with Osgar, the whole of Albion knows better than to darken the doorsteps of the Mad Priest,” Simon admitted with a frown on his face. "My father did not see it the way I did, towards the end his mind was becoming clouded, twisted, and instead of cementing a union which would have proved highly beneficial he brought enmity between our house and Osgar. The sorcerer placed a curse upon our kingdom, upon the royal house, and I found myself forced to assume kingship to try and ensure the future of not only my kingdom, but my family's name, as my father refused to see reason."

Merlin frowned, stepping from Morgana's side to move closer to the king. Nausea churned in his stomach as he took a step down, and another, before stopping his advance when he noted the way Simon’s men tensed behind their king, obviously fearing an attack. He breathed in deeply and eyed the king, asking, as calmly as he could: ”What manner of curse?"

“Morrigan’s Tribulation,” King Simon replied without hesitation, voice as grave as would be expected given the nature of his words.

Morgana's eyes widened slightly in recognition as a hush of horror washed over the court. 

Arthur frowned, looking confused yet refusing to ask.

"How far along is it?" Merlin wanted to know, unable to believe it yet refusing to reveal just how shaken he was by this news. “And is it tied to the royal family _and_ the kingdom, or upon the royal family so it _affects_ the kingdom?”

“We are currently in the Infection stage,” Simon responded gravely, before hesitating, and admitting, more more reluctantly: “It affects both the kingdom and the royal family, which was why we had to return during our first attempt to come to help as it caused a great distress to occur in one of our villages, which I had to tend to urgently.”

“I see.” The news hit him hard and he took a moment to gather himself. ”At least it is early on, that's good." Merlin suddenly froze, realizing something, before turning to eye Simon in a different light. “As the king is the tie to the royal family and the kingdom itself he would have been the first, and most direct, recipient of the curse. It would have driven him to violent insanity.” It had happened to the first of Bayard’s ancestors to be cursed. 

Was _this_ the reason Simon had acted so out of character and murdered his own father? Bayard’s ancestor, the son of the first king to be cursed, had been forced to do the very same thing and become king before his time in an effort to protect his family, court, and kingdom, from his father’s madness.

Simon nodded solemnly, looking older than he actually was right then as he answered the question Merlin had not vocalized. "It was for the best of the kingdom that I assumed the throne."

_I wronged him_ , Merlin realized, feeling guilty for having judged Simon so quickly, having dismissed even the possibility of there having been more to what had happened. He stared at the tiredness around King Simon’s once mischievous, life-filled dark eyes, and with the whole story now laid before him Merlin understood just how heavy that crown must feel on his head.

And yet… and _yet_ … he had to be _sure_.

“May I touch you, King Simon?” Merlin asked, ignoring the whispers of shock that erupted at that request, his gaze solely on those dark eyes. “You will have to understand that, given everything, we are less than willing to just take your word."

“I understand.” A smile twitched the ends of King Simon’s lips. “And really, Merlin, since when have you _ever_ had to ask permission to touch _me_?”

Knowing Arthur would no doubt _not_ be pleased at the reminder that the handsome young king with impossibly dark hair and just as dark eyes had once been one of Merlin’s lovers, the sorcerer held back a sigh as he closed the distance between him and the king to grab his neck in a way that made his soldiers tense but the king, for his credit, did not.

Merlin’s magic flared, searching, and almost immediately found what it was looking for, retreating back rapidly as his fingers slipped from Simon’s throat. “You speak the truth.” The whispers returned from the court as Merlin turned to face Morgana, wording his reply to the question she could not publicly ask him in a way which would not draw too much attention. “Once we win the war I will be bored, this should give me a challenge.”

Merlin could feel the relief from the Queen although outwardly her expression didn't change.

Morgana stood from the throne, looking glorious and regal, even as her stomach proved how frail she truly was at this moment. She held her hand out towards the visiting monarch. "King Simon, we would be honored to count you as an ally of Mercia."

Simon moved towards the dais and reached for her hand. "Northumbria and Mercia are brethren in arms now, Queen Morgana."

And with a kiss on her hand, the alliance was sealed.

* * *

 

News of the alliance with Northumbria would no doubt make their enemies pause, if not because of the strange shift in alliance, then because while those from Camelot were known for their ambition and beauty and those from Mercia for their inhumanity and savagery, Northumbria was known for their unpredictability and underhandedness. Despite being one of the few kingdoms who did not have a Court Sorcerer, Northumbria had never had an invasion to their lands which had not ended in the attackers rueing their attempts to conquer. 

The fact that King Simon had allowed Merlin to seal the truce with them with his own magic had proved that, at least in regards to the truce with Mercia, Northumbria was playing things straight, but Merlin was smarter than to believe that there wasn’t more about the king’s presence than met the eye.

“We need to provide a united front,” Morgana declared later in Merlin’s tower while King Simon and his entourage were being showed to their rooms, where they would be staying while agreeing upon a battle plan and waiting for news of Escetia’s fate. “Arthur, you will continue to wear Mercian blue.” She hurried on when he hurriedly opened his mouth. “I understand all the issues you may have with this, but you are Camelot’s heir, it will be good to show that you are Mercia’s knight as well. You are already helping Lancelot train our own men, and will be in charge of the prospective swain. It makes sense to push your allegiance to Mercia.” She raised an eyebrow at the rebellious look on his face. “Or would you, perhaps, prefer a more individual uniform denoting your position as the sole protector of Mercia’s Grand Court Sorcerer, and your allegiance to _him_?”

Arthur’s lips slowly closed, embarrassment coloring his features despite the glare he gave her. Still, when he spoke, it was with a reluctantly intrigued: “What would that entail, exactly?”

Morgana looked as if she was fighting to roll her eyes. “Just leave it to Guinevere, you can trust that she will design something you won’t detest.” She then sighed and looked down, clearly worried about something.

Arthur stared at Morgana with a sigh before he reached out and placed an awkward hand on her shoulder. “If Guinevere is strong enough to handle you, she will not fall into decline at the hands at someone less terrifying.”

Surprise, confusion, and intrigued amusement raced over Morgana’s face as she smiled slightly. “Of course she will be.” She took in a deep breath. “It is Owain I worry about. When he wakes up and discovers what happened to Bayard, and _why_ …”

Merlin turned his back on them and went to look out of the window at the blackness of the night. “I have made new anchors and hidden them in new places around the castle.” He frowned. “I do not trust anyone with their new positions. Until I can figure out how they were tampered with I need to keep them hidden as they will be the only things to keep that man, if he _was_ a man, out.”

“Are you saying you believe he might be like _you_?” Morgana asked in worry.

“Maybe not the _same_ , but not entirely human?” Merlin gripped his hands against the window frame. “I fear that might be the case.”

“He does not worry me as much as the idea that we have a traitor in our midst,” Lancelot finally spoke from where he leaned against the door, as if to physically stop any attack that might come from that direction with his own body. “I can understand Camelot’s underhandedness, but not betrayal such as this, during a time as this, when Mercia as a whole is in danger. Intrigue and back stabbing have always been commonplace in this court, but never has it occurred in times of battle, instead it has always appeared after a very long period of continuous peace…” He raised an eyebrow. “…mostly driven byabsolute _boredom_.”

Arthur let out a choked sound, not only shocked by this revelation but very obviously unable to understand Mercian mentality no matter how hard he tried to.

“So this attack on the defenses that keep Mercia and its king safe from a threat which desires to destroy us… _that_ is truly what worries me.” Lancelot’s dark eyes rose to the queen. “We have to assume that you will still be a target, with Merlin’s hidden anchors keeping the sorcerer out the traitor might be pressed by Camelot to do away with you in a more direct way.”

“Let him try,” Morgana growled.

“Or her,” Arthur corrected with a huff. “You should know better than anyone else how cunning and dangerous a woman can be. In many ways they are far more dangerous than a man could be.”

The queen looked surprised at that and then nodded, clearly twistedly proud to agree to that. “You are right, Arthur. I should not have dismissed that option entirely.” She took in a deep breath. “We also have to open our minds to the possibility that this is someone our uncle slipped into the groups of refugees from Camelot, _or_ that it is one of the many Mercians who have been unhappy with Bayard’s tactics regarding Camelot.”

“Or merely someone from Camelot or Mercia who has been promised something in return for betraying Mercia,” Arthur added. “Sometimes all that is needed is monetary gain, but we should also consider that the person behind this might be being coerced into this. It wouldn’t be the first time our uncle has used hostages to encourage certain people to do what he wants them to.”

Morgana nodded with a frown. “That is true.”

Merlin had not been listening to them, not truly, instead his mind had been on what they’d learnt today. The house of Osgar still existed, and Simon’s father had not only known of wherever their dwelling was, but he’d made some sort of dark deal with the sorcerer. Why had he dared renege on whatever deal he had made with Osgar - or one of his descendants at least - to anger the sorcerer so greatly as to cast _that_ curse?

**_Merlin_** … Simon’s voice whispered in his voice, shocking him, the sorcerer having somehow forgotten this ability. **_Come to my room, Merlin. Come see me._** An image filtered into his head, the voice having merely been a warning to prepare his mind as the true message appeared before him.

Merlin brought his hand to his head and hissed at the dull pain that usually occurred when his magic fought the visual intrusion.

“What’s wrong, Merlin?” Arthur asked immediately.

The sorcerer sighed. “King Simon is summoning me.”

There was silence, and then Morgana’s eyes widened at the implication. “Is he a _druid_?”

“No.” Merlin sighed. “Northumbria is home to quite a number of enchanters, it is why they do not truly have need of a Court Sorcerer. The royal family, of course, are the strongest in the kingdom.”

“Enchanters,” Arthur mouthed the word with narrowed eyes. “How does that differ from sorcerers?”

Morgana snorted and lowered her head, clearly amused at the question.

Lancelot looked down at his fingernails.

Merlin watched the realization that maybe he’d asked something relatively insulting dawn on Arthur’s face, but when the blonde hurriedly turned to look at him the sorcerer met his wide-eyed gaze with an amused smile, letting him know he wasn’t offended by the question. Especially so given the fact that, given his heritage, Merlin truly wasn’t a _sorcerer_ in the most technical of ways, but it was the title he preferred, the one that brought less questions. “Enchanters specialize in a very specific sort of magic, so they do not have the range that sorcerers do.”

“Can they choose what type of magic or is…?” Arthur then blinked and then frowned. “Is _enchantment_ their ability? As in… as in the ability to _enchant_ someone?” He looked around the room at Morgana and Lancelot, neither being any sort of help, before he returned his gaze on Merlin. “What exactly does _enchantment_ entail?”

“Well, it is hard to describe, but I suppose you can say that enchanters have a way with delving into your mind,” Merlin tried his best to explain the complex magic they used. “Most enchanters are only able to create very minor illusions, but there are a _very_ rare few enchanters, such as the royal family, who have the ability to do _more_.” He knew Arthur wouldn’t like hearing what he was going to say, but Merlin needed him to understand what to expect, to explain just how much on guard he should be. Just because Simon was their ally did not mean he would not screw around them with them for fun or out of boredom. “To be quite honest, I’m not entirely sure how much of what I experienced in their castle was real, and how much was illusion. Although I believe most of it had to have been real, because I cannot feed off of _fantasy._ ”

“But you cannot be sure?” Even Morgana seemed surprised at that. “The royal family are _that_ strong?”

“Simon was by far the strongest in his family,” Merlin explained with no shame at his uncertainty. “That was part of the reason I was tasked to convince him him join with Mercia.”

“I do not understand,” Arthur declared as he frowned. “During the war between Mercia and Camelot Northumbria was on our side and yet I do not remember hearing that they were using illusions or enchantments or such on Mercia. Our battles would not have been such horribly onesided massacres if that had been the case.”

“That was because we were given anonymous tips of which battles would prominently feature Northumbrians, and Merlin and his personally handpicked warlocks would join every single battle that involved them,” Lancelot explained before noticing both Morgana and Arthur’s confused looks. “There were only two outcomes when Merlin joined in - either the battles ended up like the Massacre of Kelipien, or like the Battle of Drayton.” He grinned at the latter memory before his eyes widened as he visibly remembered Arthur was there, and he flinched, apologetically, at the blonde. “Right.” He cleared his voice, less visibly amused and pleased. “Let’s just say there were some battles where Camelot did not lose as many of their soldiers for a _reason_.”

“I remember the knights returning from the Battle of Drayton and other similar ones where we sustained far less casualties than usual.” Arthur narrowed his eyes at Lancelot. “Those knights swore that they could not remember how they had managed to survive.”

“Those knights were _lying_ ,” Lancelot assured him. “Otherwise, how did most of then end up in the Queen’s Guard?”

Arthur’s eyes widened before he looked between Merlin and Lancelot and then froze. Those eyes turned on Merlin, no doubt remembering Geraint and the other ‘pilgrims’ to Merlin’s room in Camelot. “You _tupped_ the _WHOLE ARMY_?”

“Not me _personally_ ,” Merlin snickered at the idea of that even being possible, at least in the timeframe of the battle. “But there were nights where I fed better than I have since my time at the Northumbrian Court.”

Lancelot turned to Queen Morgana. “It was where we first met Sir Geraint, for example.” His eyes then widened. “Now that I think about it, Merlin, after you grew bored of Geraint wasn’t it _Montague_ who took him over for the rest of the night?”

Merlin blinked in surprise at the question before shrugging. “If I’m being completely honest I do not remember most of the battles that I have been a part of. The demon takes over, whether it’s feasting on the bloodshed or on the claiming. I have memories of little moments that aren’t interconnected in the slightest.”

“Considering how eager my Guard has taken to the Mercian lifestyle and almost _immediately_ upon our arrival found lovers amongst the Court I already had an _idea_ of what must have happened during those battles,” Morgana admitted with a shake of her head. “I had not realized it was an all-right _orgy_ though."

Arthur was incredibly quiet.

Having expected his blonde to take this badly, Merlin sighed and ran a hand down his face. “It’s thanks to that same disoriented haze that I believe most of what I experienced in the Northumbrian Court was real. There were _numerous_ occasions where I’d find myself slowly coming out of the feeding frenzy enough to realize what I was doing and that I had no real memory of how I had ended up inside of whoever I was inside of at the time.”

**_Merlin_**. A finger curled, beckoning.

The sorcerer sighed and pressed his fingers harder into his head. “I have to go or he’ll continue to harass me.” 

Arthur suddenly stood up from his chair. “Shall I go with you as well, Master?”

Morgana and Lancelot’s eyes widened in absolute shock. They even turned to look at each other as if asking if the other had heard that as well or if they’d hallucinated.

Merlin flinched as he continued to rub his temple. “Not tonight. If he detests Camelot as much as you say he does he’ll not want to say whatever he wants to if you’re around.” He sighed and made his way towards the door as Lancelot moved away from blocking it. “Just go to bed, Arthur, we have a very stressful day tomorrow.” With that he left the room, still rubbing his head.

He hadn’t known which room Simon would be placed in, but the dark haired king had obviously realized that Merlin was on his way because the images he kept sending him directed him where exactly to go. Of course, those images didn’t just entail the right hallways to take, they also inserted images, memories, of acts Merlin used to think about with dark longing when he’d returned to Mercia from the Northumbrian Court.

Finally finding himself in front of the door, Merlin walked passed the soldiers stationed outside and entered the room only to stumble when the scent hit him all at once. He was so distracted as he tried to take in all that was happening that he didn’t even notice the soldiers closing the door behind him.

How had he not hear anything - smelt anything - until he was inside the belly of the beast? If he’d known before he could’ve prepared himself, steeled himself, yet because of this he’d been hit totally unprepared, and his demon was pacing inside of him growling, snarling, delighted and hungry.

_He did this on purpose_ , Merlin suddenly realized as he saw the smile on Simon’s face. That was probably what the memories he’d scattered all over the hallway had been about, to distract Merlin so as to catch him off guard.

All around the prince’s room were bodies locked in carnal pleasure, they were groaning and writhing, beautiful men and women clawing, desperate for each other’s bodies. It reminded Merlin of his time in Northumbria, and when he searched for it he smirked darkly, finding the incense that would be the case for the desperate rutting happening inside the room.

“One would think you would be too tired from your trip to play games, King Simon,” Merlin declared as he shifted on his feet, trying to drown out the scent of desire.

“When have I _ever_ been too tired to play?” Simon asked with a slow smile from his bed. “Although, I have to admit that I did not expect to see you so soon in my chambers. I was sure I’d have to tease you all night and you’d end up storming up to me tomorrow due to your lack of sleep.”

Instead of the brighter torches, only sparse candlelight lit the room, but Merlin didn't need any sort of light to know exactly what was happening in the young king's room, or on his bed, for that matter.

A handsome young man was on the bed, kneeling between Simon's parted thighs, tongue worshipping the royal cock before taking Simon into his mouth with relish. Simon gave a little groan, his hand going down to push the man's head further onto his cock, before those half ladened eyes returned to Merlin. "I half expected Arthur to keep you shackled to your bedroom, or does he not know of our… _history_?"

"He does." Merlin could  _taste_  the desire in the air, barely keeping his demon in control as the groans of a woman pressed up against the wall next to the bed, a slender male deep inside of her, sidetracked his gaze for a moment.

“My, my, my, he must be quite confident.” Simon rolled his hips, forcing his cock deep into his pleasure-giver's throat, hissing in ecstasy, his gaze never leaving Merlin's. “I half expected him to come with you."

“As if I would allow him to come here when I’m still not sure what games you’re playing,” Merlin sneered, but he heard the dark gravel in his voice, the arousal, and knew Simon could as well.

“So _protective_ , Merlin, I’m honestly shocked.” A strange emotion flittered over his dark eyes. “Come now, this is me you are talking to. You’ve told me all about the rituals held at Mercia, teased me with the details while you moved mercilessly inside of my body.” His eyes closed and he let out a groan before those eyes opened enough for him to look at Merlin once more. “Let’s not pretend Arthur’s a pristine virgin, or that _that_ is the reason you didn’t bring him.”

Images flashed in Merlin’s head, memories so incredibly real he almost thought he was back in that moment, cock buried deep inside of Simon as the prince sobbed and clawed at the dungeon’s floor. Merlin’s hips started moving on their own, caught up in the memory, before his mind got control again and Merlin opened his eyes, realizing where he was and what was happening. “You called _me_ , King Simon. If you merely want to talk about my love life we can do it at a different date when you are not so… _busy_.”

"Come now Merlin, surely the rumors of your being  _tamed_  by that puppy weren't true,” Simon taunted playfully. "Enjoy what Northumbria offers-as you have so fully in the past-and once we've been sated speak to me of whatever your heart desires." Simon's breaths accelerated, his eyes darkening with hunger as he motioned with his chin towards where the lanky man fucked into the woman against the wall. “I notice you watching them earlier. Go to them, spread his asscheeks and fuck deep into him while he fucks into her, become one with _both of them."_

Merlin was sorely tempted, hunger churning in his stomach, his demon side always so drawn to the Northumbrian sexual decadence. Honestly, Simon was playing with his head, like he was known to do, but unlike how much he’d enjoyed and easily capitulated while in Northumbria Merlin somehow resisted the siren’s pull.

"Or what about this boy here?" Simon petted that mop of brown hair as his hips rose and fell, his gaze always on Merlin, his movements more erratic. "Is he more to your liking?" His smile was pure sex. "Fuck him while he sucks me, make him  _cry_  around my cock. Let’s relive fond memories.”

Merlin tightened his hands into fists. "Have a good night, King Simon." He turned and stormed towards the door, about to open the door, when a familiar whine caught is attention. Confusion filled him as she turned, back to the door, searching, and there he found him.

Arthur.

Arthur was here.

_Why_ was Arthur here?

The blonde was pinned against the wall to his right, gripping the wall, head leaned back and groaning as a huge Northumbrian man worked his cock deeper and deeper inside of him. The boy was on his tiptoes, his cheek pressed against the wall, face twisted in amazed pleasure as the man behind him claimed him.

Shock and anger and jealousy and desire fought inside of Merlin as he found himself unable to do anything but watch. The demons snarled, scratched, paced the cage, but it was also painfully erect as it focused on the pleasure in Arthur’s face, heard the sounds of his whimpers as he was sodomized by the large stranger.

“You were right, Master,” Arthur groaned as he opened his eyes and stared in fevered delight at Merlin. “It feels _so good_. Can I have more? Master? Please? I’ll do anything if it pleases you. _Anything_.”

“What are you doing, Arthur? What is going on?” Merlin asked in confusion, his emotions a wreck, his humanity and inhumanity reacting vastly differently in ways he’d never felt before and wasn’t quite sure what they meant. He didn’t understand any of this, anything that was going on, he was overwhelmed and confused and while an enormous part of him was planning on murdering the large Northumbrian the other part of him wanted desperately to make Arthur happy, and Arthur looked _incredibly_ happy. 

Arthur opened his mouth to answer but the Northumbrian began ramming himself viciously into him and the blonde yowled like a cat in heat while arching into the punishing cock. Merlin both hated the sound and was aroused beyond belief by it.

What was happening?

_Why_ was this happening?

Did Arthur really want to please Merlin this badly? While Merlin would not have been shocked had this happened with any of his past lovers, because this _had_ happened with _most_ of his past lovers, the fact that it was Arthur, _his_ Arthur, left him speechless, frozen, mind racing, emotions utterly conflicted and both sides of his inner self - the soul and the demon - at war.

To be honest, his mind was in such a disarray that he hadn’t realized there was heat now at his back and hands inside his pants, stroking his cock in a way that proved the stroker’s vast familiarity with how to bring Merlin pleasure. Merlin’s mind was solely focused on Arthur, on the mixture of anger and anxiety and arousal that battled Merlin’s body.

“ _Harder_ , please! _Harder_!” Arthur begged. “Cum inside me!”

Merlin snapped, murder winning as he stormed towards them, hand raising to set his magic loose on that Northumbrian… when he took another step and wooziness filled him. The sorcerer brought his hand to his head and blinked, the world seeming to shift before righting itself, and when he looked up again he found himself in his bedroom staring down at a worried Arthur.

“Merlin? _Merlin! Snap out of it_!”

“What happened?” Merlin groaned as he pressed his hands harder against his temples, the headache only making his confusion worse. “How did I get back?”

“You don’t remember? What _happened_ in his room?” Arthur wanted to know, less angry and more worried as he stared up at Merlin in obvious concern. “You just stumbled in here like you were drunk, and then you just stood there, mumbling about needing stronger walls or something like that, and then you just _stared at the wall_ and wouldn’t react no matter how much I called or shook you.” He let out a relieved breath. “I was about to go get the Court Physician.”

And then he finally remembered, and Merlin growled in anger.

Arthur blinked at the sound. “So is that a ‘no’ on the Court Physician?”

“No, it’s not that.” Merlin let out a deep, aggravated breath. “Simon played his usual tricks, but this time he went a step too far.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I want to blame him but I understand why he did it, the person I was before would love what he did, and maybe, had it been anyone but you—-.”

“Me?” Arthur made up his face. “What _about_ me?”

“He made me see, for far too long, the sight of someone else rutting you.” A muscle jumped in Merlin’s cheek at the memory. “I was really confused, unlike any other lover I have never shared you and yet you were enjoying it so fully.” He let out a deep breath. “I wanted to let it happen if it gave you such pleasure but then you asked him to _seed_ you. And I wanted to _kill_ him.” He turned to Arthur, gripping is shoulders and slamming him back into the wall. “I am the _only one_ allowed to fill your body, Arthur. You are _mine_.”

Arthur stared up at him in open shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Merlin snarled down at him. “Your body is only _mine_ to fill, if there’s even a doubt in your mind of how serious I am I will fuck you till your stomach bulges with my cum and I will magically plug you up so you can’t remove it. I will make you walk around, make you _live_ , with my cum so fully inside of you _you look pregnant_.” He promised that darkly as he lowered his gaze to Arthur. “Do you understand what I am telling you, boy? Do you see the lack of humor, in my eyes? Can you tell how utterly _serious_ this threat is?”

“ _I do_ ,” Arthur whispered, absolutely shaken. “I can’t believe—when I heard you—are you _in love_ , Merlin?”

Merlin didn’t answer, instead lifting Arthur up by his hips, and the second the blonde’s legs wrapped around his waist he was kissing him deeply, ignoring the shocked whimper. He wasn’t much of a kisser otherwise, but with Arthur it was all he could do to keep his mouth off of any part of the blonde. His lips captured, his tongue claimed, his growl betrayed his dark need.

Arthur seemed confused and conflicted, overwhelmed yet needy as he returned Merlin’s kiss.

“ _I need to be inside of you, Arthur_ ,” Merlin warned against those lips. “My beautiful boy, my perfect boy.”

Arthur made a strange before unwrapping his legs from around Merlin and shoving him back as pain wrecked Merlin’s mind.

The sound of a door slamming shut caused him to look up, confused, disoriented, to see he was outside of Simon’s room. Merlin glanced around at the guards, who failed to acknowledge him, and then back at the door, head fuzzy, trying to remember what had happened. He’d been in Simon’s room, Simon had been his usual self, and then Merlin had… he’d said he was leaving. Merlin could remember himself heading to the door, so, yes. There was something bit fuzzy there but Merlin could understand that given Simon’s famed lust-inducing incense and the overwhelming carnality Merlin’s demon had been subjected to.

All of that and Simon hadn’t even briefly _hinted_ at whatever his ulterior motive was for this peace treaty. He had one. Merlin knew that for a fact. He hadn’t been able to tell exactly what it was, but when he’d touched Simon he’d not only felt the curse within him, but he’d subtly probed enough to not alert the enchanter. Simon was here for some other reason, and it had to do with Merlin, so obviously he needed a sorcerer for _something else_. But instead of just making things easier for Merlin he’d gone and thrown him head first into an orgy so jam-packed of people, of perversions and lust…

Merlin leaned hard against the door as he took in a couple of deep breaths, and yet the scent of sex and desire was still strong all around him like an aphrodisiac. He was hard against his pants, the material straining against his cock. The demon in him was desperate for sex, for pleasure, was starving for what it had been denied.

Taking in a deep breath, Merlin could feel his eyes flashing gold with hunger. That hunger wasn’t for Simon though, no matter how close he was. Now that Merlin was outside of Simon's chambers and away from the disorienting affects of that incense his demon wanted nothing more than to search for the little prince and bury himself in him, hilt deep, to take out all of this frustration out on him, but Merlin refused to follow suit. To go to Arthur after being affected by Simon and his antics would feel as if he were disrespecting Arthur somehow, maybe even just using him as a vessel with which to sate himself, and the boy deserved better treatment than that from Merlin. It was why the sorcerer ignored his impulse, his demon's every beg/demand to go to their chambers, and instead headed towards his tower.

The walk to his tower seemed longer than usual, Merlin knowing he should be more aware given the fact that he knew they had a traitor inside the castle walls, and yet the battle against his sex-craving demon took all his concentration. He slipped into the room, the doors closing behind him as his magic lifted him up to the top of the tower within seconds. The second his feet touched the floor Merlin began disrobing without much thought. No. That was a lie. There  _was_  much thought, but those thoughts were depraved imaginings of a mind warped and sickened by the sexual, memories of Merlin's time in Northumbria washing over him like a fever, his skin burning with his mounting desire.

His imaginings twisted further, inserting Arthur in the middle of that debauchery, and he nearly cried out at the jolt that raced through his cock like lightning. It was almost sacrilegious to imagine Arthur in such a den of depravity, and yet that part of Merlin he tried (with little success) to control purred, more and more images of Arthur on his knees, the both of them surrounded by entangled bodies, cries of pleasure, the scent of sex… and Merlin deep inside of Arthur, hands on his hips as he filled the boy with his seed.

Merlin collapsed onto his bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, hand working over his weeping cock as images flashed of Arthur underneath him.

"How  _desperate_  you seem tonight, Master." Arthur's voice declared darkly, shocking the sorcerer into jolting up into a sitting position. He had  _yet_  to get used to the fact that his magic granted Arthur unlimited access, and that the fact that his magic considered Arthur a part of Merlin meant that it didn't alert the sorcerer to the prince's presence like it did with everyone else. "I do not believe I have seen you quite like this before."

Merlin moved his hands to the sheets on either side of his hips, gripping them tightly as the desire he'd felt before magnified a hundredfold now that he knew Arthur was here in the room.

Arthur sat in the darkest corner, on Merlin's chair, an odd expression darkening his features as he leaned forwards. "One can not help but wonder what exactly happened in King Simon's room to have you return in this state."

Merlin couldn't stop himself, leaning back on his elbows, his demon-side far too close to the surface as he smirked, knowing his silence would bother Arthur far more than anything he could ever tell him.

True to form, Arthur sneered as he stood, stalking towards the bed. "If you had slept with him you wouldn't be in this condition right now so I doubt that happened."

That was true, Merlin merely tilting his head to the side as he watched Arthur roughly disrobing, obviously displeased with him.

"But the fact that you leave  _his_  chambers in  _this_  state!" Arthur snapped, eyes betraying his fury as he stood before Merlin in his naked glory. "He  _affects_  you."

"There was an orgy going on in his chambers, I was affected by the scent of sex and the sounds, the visual,” Merlin finally admitted, in control enough to turn away so that he he was laying on his chest, giving Arthur his back and in his own way denying the prince. He still felt that it would be wrong to sleep with Arthur at this moment, even if he really wanted to. "He invited me to stay and join. I was sorely tempted to do just that."

"Then why didn't you?"

Merlin chuckled darkly. "If I recall correctly, you told me you refused to share me and would kill any lover I had because I was  _yours_." His lips curved. "Taking all of that into consideration, killing King Simon would be a  _horrible_  way to begin this alliance between Mercia and Northumbria."

There was silence.

Sighing, Merlin turned around once more, resting his hands behind his head as he stared up at Arthur, who watched him silently.

Finally, Arthur sighed as well as he threw himself on the bed next to Merlin, staring up at the ceiling.

Merlin joined him, gazing at the shadows from the fireplace dancing above them.

"He invited you to an  _orgy_." Arthur took in a deep breath, shaking his head. "He has not even been here  _one night_  and he has already-that is truly  _unbelievable_.”

“I think he might have also messed with my head a little,” Merlin admitted. “There’s a fuzzy bit I can’t quite remember, so I’ll have to strengthen my mind’s walls from no on. I haven’t really had a reason to do so since there is no one in Mercia even close to being able to slip through them at their weakest, but Simon’s different.” He frowned. "I'll also have to figure out a way to protect your mind too because knowing him he'll want to mess with it just to annoy me, and probably make you jealous out of spite."

Arthur froze. “What do you mean you _don’t remember_?” He didn’t give Merlin time to answer. “Do you think that asshole—-?” He then paused and shook his head. “No, you _have not_ had sex. I would have been able to tell.”

Amusement and intrigue fluttered through Merlin’s stomach. “Do you know my body that well, boy?”

A shiver of delight raced visibly down Arthur’s skin yet he fought the smile twitching his lips. “I learn more each day, master.” He then frowned and shook his head. “But just because he didn’t do anything to you tonight doesn’t mean he won’t try again.” He growled. “I still cannot believe that you tupped someone as underhanded and slimy as _him_.”

"He's Northumbrian, being underhanded is in their nature.” Merlin shrugged. "They are known for their trickery and promiscuity, just like Mercia for their darker delights and brutality and Camelot for their warriors…and _rules_."

"Why is it that every time you talk about Camelot I get the distinct impression you think we’re all  _prudes_?" Arthur wanted to know, sending Merlin a little look. “I think Guinevere, Morgana, myself - and apparently _everyone in the Queen’s Guard -_ all go to show that not everyone born in Camelot are what our rules dictated we should be.” He paused, making a little expression as he thought of something. "If you'd been born a part of Camelot, you would understand. Then again, I think, even if I’d been born a Mercian I _still_ wouldn’t be able to fully wrap my head around your customs and way of thinking.”

“While the idea of you having been born a Mercian _really_ intrigues me, if I had been born in Camelot's borders I would have been in  _hell,_ ” Merlin told it as it was, never one to beat around the bush with Arthur as he turned to lay on his side, eyeing the young prince. "Arthur, you seem to have forgotten what I am."

"I know what you are, Merlin. I don't think I could ever forget that knowledge." Arthur rolled his eyes at him, obviously growing frustrated.

Merlin moved quickly, straddling his golden prince, trapping his hands down against the bed, staring down into Arthur's blues. He didn’t understand why he had the urge now, maybe it was the effect of his finally having gotten rid of that headache, or maybe it was the fact that being in Simon’s quarters had brought up memories of a time when his demon reigned supreme, but he needed to tell his boy this. Arthur might know a little about Merlin’s heritage but he didn’t know anything specific, and while Merlin couldn’t bring himself to go into full details he needed to tell Arthur more than he already did. Maybe, maybe _then_ , Arthur would be able to understand him a little better. 

"Arthur. I’m not just a sorcerer, I’m a Dragonlord as well as a Cambion. My mother is the Queen of the Succubi. I'm not only half sex-demon, but my demon side comes from the  _Queen_ , it's royal blood." He tilted his head to the side, watching Arthur's features, trying to detect any change in emotion, any horror, any fear, any disgust. There was none, merely surprise at the revelation of who exactly his mother had been, so he continued on. "If I'd been born in Camelot and raised by the most pious, prudish of parents or guardians, I suppose, I would have been even  _worse_  than I am now."

“How would being born there have made such a big difference considering you would still be you?” Arthur licked his lips before looking up at him shyly. “And if you’d been born in Camelot we would have always known of each other.” He shifted his hips slightly as a blush colored his cheeks. “In fact, I would have preferred it if you were born there because you would have been _our_ Grand Court Sorcerer and I would have ended up on your cock much sooner than I did in reality.”

While the idea of taking advantage of the prince while under the king’s own roof made Merlin raging hard once more, he was forced to control himself because now that he’d found the courage to do this he needed to do so. “It would have been a very bad thing for you had I been Camelot’s Court Sorcerer, Arthur.”

“How can you say that?” Arthur asked, sounding hurt.

"You do not seem to understand that I am not wholly human." Merlin stared down at his prince. "Sometimes I love that about you, and yet other times, like now, I hate it terribly, because it means I have to explain just how detestable I truly am and risk you being disgusted, not only by me, but by the appalling things I’m very capable of doing - and most probably have already done - multiple times - with _great_ pleasure.”

Arthur licked his lips as he shifted slightly, a strangely dark glint in his eyes. “Merlin, I’m not exactly the sweet and innocent person you still seem to think I am for some reason. You just warned me that you want to do appalling things, and yet instead of being disgusted I get excited at the thought. Whatever they are, I _want_ you to do those things to me _._ ”

Merlin’s eyes flared gold at his demon’s reaction to those words, at the open desire on Arthur’s face. He was barely holding onto himself, to his desire, and he needed to get this out while he still had the courage to do so. 

“You do not understand, Arthur, it does not have to do merely with my sexual inclinations. That is not the only reason why I say it would be bad for you, for Camelot, had I grown up there. I’m  _hungry_ , Arthur. All the time. And not for food." Merlin pushed off of Arthur and sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over as he stared at the fireplace. "If I had been raised somewhere where my hunger had been denied it would have accumulated and accumulated until I snapped and killed a  _lot_  of people as my demon-side took over and just sucked the life completely out of as many people as it needed to recuperate all that it'd been denied."

There was silence.

Merlin sighed, running his hand over his face. He'd never actually come out and told Arthur before that he could actually  _kill_  people if he wasn't careful. It was yet another reason why he'd always had multiple lovers. It was only with Arthur that he seemed able to just draw from him and not actually  _kill_  his monogamous partner.

The bed moved and then Arthur's warmth encircled Merlin from behind as the prince rested his cheek against Merlin's shoulder, his hands curling around Merlin's waist.

The sorcerer froze because damn it, the comfort he could feel emanating from Arthur into him… It was calming and beautiful. 

A soft smile tilted Merlin's lips as he placed his hand on the clasped ones at his stomach, and turned his head to place a kiss against Arthur's forehead.

Arthur never spoke, his gaze on the fireplace, and yet he smiled, rubbing his cheek against Merlin's shoulder.

Continuing to press soft kisses against Arthur's forehead, a groan escaped Merlin's lips as Arthur’s fingers wrap around the sorcerer’s cock, moving slowly over it. Merlin reached out with his own hand and tipped Arthur's chin upwards so he could kiss those lips, coaxing them apart with ease as he slowly, languidly, kissed the golden boy. He could feel Arthur hardening against his back with each kiss, each breath, could feel Arthur curbing the desire to stroke faster, instead matching the steady pace of the kiss they shared.

When Arthur began to slowly rut against Merlin's back, a trail of precum easing the slide, Merlin kissed him a little deeper, savoring the way Arthur's body trembled for a moment.

Unlike before he didn't deny the golden boy what he wanted because it was no longer about his own desire from having witnessed the full-blown orgy in Simon's room. No. Merlin's cock was hard and begging because of Arthur and his hug, his smell, the way he'd done his best to try and comfort Merlin. The fire in Merlin's veins now had everything to do with Arthur Pendragon, and it was only because of that that the sorcerer allowed himself to indulge in his desires, reaching behind him to wrap his fingers around Arthur's cock.

The prince whimpered into the kiss, hips giving an involuntary buck, his own hand around Merlin pausing in its movement for a second before returning to its previous rhythm.

Merlin concentrated on Arthur's taste as his tongue swept the inside of the golden's prince's mouth, the boy tasting like sunshine and breeze. It was refreshing, like being in the middle of a field on a beautiful day, surrounded by magnificent nature at its best. His heartbeat slowed, his hand moving around that cock, fingers teasing the cockhead, lips pulling back in a hiss when Arthur's own hand on him made the sorcerer lose his breath.

The intense need wasn't there, but the desire was deeper, stronger, different. It was always different with Arthur; always had been and always would be.

That realization was mind blowing, the sorcerer pulling away from the prince and turning so that he could look at the flushed face, the half-closed eyes with golden eyelashes, the parted lips and golden tanned skin. All of this was his.

Arthur's chest rose and fell as he breathed through his parted lips, his blues darker and resting on Merlin, said lips pulling back in a grim line as he frowned. "Why-why did you stop?"

Merlin couldn't help the way he grinned at the spoilt tone in those words, reminding him oh-so much of their time together, the boy his tantrum-throwing "slave". He continued observing Arthur as he reached out to caress those golden locks, fingers slipping through the silken hair before trailing down to cup the boy's jaw, his thumb rubbing against that skin, brushing against those lips.

Arthur's eyelids lowered shut as he leaned into the touch, into the caress.

Merlin let his hand slip from Arthur, just staring at the boy, reminiscing on how far they'd come from the days in which Arthur had been confined to his bedroom.

"What are you thinking about?" Arthur's voice broke him from his musings, the younger man eyeing him with a slight petulant expression on his face. "Are you imagining the orgy in King Simon's room?"

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled at the princeling until Arthur was straddling him, still half pouting. "I was not thinking about the orgy." He reached up, cupping Arthur's face and tilting his head up so as to bare his neck, Merlin's lips pressing against the throbbing pulse in near reverence. "I was thinking of you. Only of you."

"Liar…" and yet Arthur's voice wasn't so much annoyed as it was breathless, his cock twitching as he wriggled around on Merlin's lap, accommodating himself so that he rested with Merlin's cock pressing against the cleft of his ass, the tease bucking slightly, temptingly.

“You have a bad habit of calling your Master a liar,” Merlin commented into his neck with no heat whatsoever. “Had I been Camelot’s Court Sorcerer you would have been better trained by now.”

“I-is that s-so—?” Arthur trembled, his voice breaking slightly with excitement.

“Oh, most definitely,” Merlin assured him as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to Arthur’s neck while rolling his hips against the prince, teasing him with his cock, angling them so that each thrust brushed his head against that tiny entrance hard enough to rock Arthur yet never hard enough to slip inside. “I would have - how did you put it again - ‘had you on my cock’? Was that how you oh-so eloquently called it, Prince Arthur?”

“ _Yessss_ ,” Arthur confirmed with no shame whatsoever. “You would have. Wouldn’t you?” He rubbed back against the cock teasing his entrance greedily. “I would’ve never snuck out to war if I had had this cock lodged inside of me.” He groaned, his own words clearly affecting him greatly. “Everyone spoiled and coddled me but you would have been _hard_ on me, wouldn’t you, Master? Would’ve taught me my place.”

“You sound like you would’ve liked that,” Merlin noted in surprise and pleasure, a little taken back by how similar their desires seemed to be minus some small changes. “Would you have liked that, Arthur?” He whispered into the boy’s ear. “Are you twitching this violently against my stomach at the thought of me sitting on your father’s throne, with you on my lap, so I could fuck you in front of everyone and show them exactly what kind of slut their prince is for my cock?”

Arthur whined and pressed back harder against Merlin’s cock as his own began to drip with the craving those words visibly stroked inside of him.

“I would have done terrible things to you, Arthur, and all under your father’s nose,” Merlin whispered into Arthur's ear, feeling the blonde trembling. "I would’ve had you on your hands and knees at all times with a collar around your throat." He nibbled on the shell of Arthur's ear, losing himself to the thought. "A din of iniquity all around us, cries, begs, whimpers, screams… and you with a leash attached to your collar… And me hilt deep inside of you, holding that leash so tightly your back was curved."

Arthur gulped, and Merlin pressed languid kisses against that adam's apple. "A collar and l-leash?"

Merlin's smile was somewhat evil as he nibble on that neck, eyes closed, able to imagine it so easily as he reached around Arthur and brushed his finger over that quivering entrance, teasing it, encircling that puckered star.

“Y-you want to put a c-collar—?” Arthur's words melted into a groan as he arched his back when that finger slipped inside, his head tilting all the way back, granting Merlin full access as the sorcerer lavished his attentions on that neck.

"Sometimes," Merlin whispered truthfully into his neck as he added a second, and then a third finger inside of the prince, who mewled like a kitten. “Sometimes I want to pierce parts of your body only I will get to see. Sometimes I want to eat off of you like a plate, leaving dessert covering your cock and dribbling down to your sweet little hole so I can enjoy it for last. Sometimes I want to shift your body, change it, transform it, so I can fuck you in different, unimaginable, inhuman ways. Sometimes I want to change myself, to knot inside of you and keep my seed where it belongs.” He worked his fingers roughly inside, spreading them, spreading _Arthur_. “Sometimes I want to lock you up in a pillory, unable to do anything, to move, as I have my way with you for as long as I wish. But most of all, Arthur, I want to find a way to go back to the past and _decimate_ Camelot so that you would have been born a citizen of Mercia and grown up as its ward.” He chuckled darkly into that ear at the fantasy that gave him the most pleasure. “I would have asked Bayard for you the second I could. There would have been no Valiant. No war. No High Priestess. No _Uther_. There would have been _nothing_ to take you away from me.”

“I didn’t want to go,” Arthur promised, moving his hips against those fingers, a flush of pleasure trailing down to his chest.

“I believe you now, but when you were taken from me, when I thought you had plotted my death…” Merlin ignored Arthur’s whine when he slipped his finger free because it died the second Merlin's hand clamped down on his hips and lowered Arthur down onto his cock, impaling the groaning princeling to the hilt. “I went **_insane_**.” The sorcerer lifted his hand, cupping the side of Arthur's face, fingers also in his hair, staring up into the golden boy's flushed face. “You’re _mine_ , Arthur, even my demon lays claim. That should terrify you beyond belief.”

"I-idiot s-sorcerer," Arthur gasped as Merlin moved within him, the golden prince reaching out curl his fingers in Merlin's hair, pressing his forehead against the sorcerer's as he rolled his hips. "You could  _never_  scare me."

Merlin smiled, closing his eyes against the naivety of his prince. "Such sweet words."

"Shut up."

Chuckling a little evilly, Merlin's grip returned to Arthur's hips, raising the prince up before slamming him down on his cock somewhat ruthlessly.

Arthur's lips parted, his cock throbbing viciously as Merlin's magic curled around his nipples, twisting them painfully. " _Merlin_!"

“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin’s magic visibly rolled those rosy nubs as Merlin stilled his hips, smirk growing when Arthur gave a groan and began moving his own in earnest, fucking himself on Merlin's cock hungrily.

" _M-Mast_ -."

“Sorry, I can’t quite hear you.” Merlin tightened his grip on Arthur's hips and stopped their movements, leaving the boy prince impaled motionlessly on his cock as the sorcerer's magic tortured his nipples and teased his cock cruelly. “What were you trying to say?”

“ _Please_!" Arthur was begging.  _Begging_.

That darkness inside of Merlin loved it.

" _M-Mas-_!"

Merlin finally rolled his hips viciously in a way that he knew would hit that part that always drove Arthur mindless.

"- _ter_!" Arthur's voice cried out, choked, his eyes closing, his breathing growing erratic. " _Master_!  _Master! Master!_ "

"Good boy." Merlin's grin showed teeth as his magic stop torturing the prince's nipples and cock. The sorcerer's grip transferred from Arthur's hips to around his back, shifting the boy backwards slightly. He leaned down and closed his mouth around one of Arthur's nipples, chuckling into the skin as he heard his lover's cry, felt Arthur's wild buck when Merlin's tongue encircled the pink, highly over-sensitive bud.

Arthur moved so that his back was fully arched, his hands grabbing purchase on Merlin's thighs as he offered himself up fully to that mouth, his untouched cock weeping.

That just wouldn't do, and when Merlin's eyes flashed gold it activated the magic inside of Arthur,  _Merlin's_  magic, heating the prince from deep within and causing the boy prince to  _beg_  as his movement grew urgent, tendrils of magic teasing that cock, sliding all around it like silk, teasing the slit and fondling his balls.

"I-I-!" Arthur tried.

Merlin too, clenching down with his teeth on Arthur's nipple as with a series of erratic, deep thrusts he buried himself deep within the boy, filling the golden prince with his essence.

Arthur cried out, back arching almost impossibly as he came, his grip on Merlin's thighs punishing, so wonderful.

Slowly lowering from his high, Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur's racing heartbeat, and eyes closed in utter contentment.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _You should have saved him_.”

Merlin closed his eyes against the words he’d known he’d hear. “I would have, I _wanted_ to.” He turned in his seat and stood to face Owain, who, like Guinevere, had still been asleep due to the draining aspect of the curse he’d been under. 

The boy had clearly only now awoken, and yet he was here. He was pallid, eyes wide in horror yet dark in fury, features twisted in anger, in hate, in disbelief. Clearly Cassius had broken the news to him and the manservant had raced to find Merlin. His body was trembling, and he was leaning heavily against the wall, very obviously only standing and conscious due to his self control. “ ** _THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU?!_** ”

“Because he ordered me to do nothing that would endanger your life when he realized I was about to sacrifice yours for his,” Merlin admitted, not feeling guilty or ashamed of this. He liked Owain but Owain was _not_ his king, and he knew that out of everyone in the castle, Owain would have understood his actions. “Because of _that oath_ I could not do anything to save him, no matter _how much_ I wanted to.”

Owain’s eyes widened as he began to shake. “ _What do you mean_?”

Merlin wanted to save the boy this pain, but Owain deserved to know the truth, deserved to know just how loved he had been. “The fear that something would happen to you was too much for Bayard’s heart.” He stopped for a moment, reliving the look on his king’s face as he dropped to his knees and clutched at his chest. “The sorcerer told me that if I went to Bayard, if I helped him, he would kill you.” He closed his eyes against the memory and cleared his throat before he shook his head with opened eyes, seeing the horrified realization creeping onto the boy’s face. “I _begged_ Bayard to revoke his order, to let me save him, Owain, I _begged_. I even _ordered_ him to. But _he would not_ revoke the order.”

Tears were filling Owain’s eyes blindly, and his weight slipped, his body losing all strength as he fell.

Unlike his failure during the attack, this time Merlin was the one who caught Owain before he could hit the floor, bringing the sobbing boy into his arms and holding him tightly as the younger man shattered in his arms. “Bayard spent his life losing people he loved, so he learnt to keep people at a distance, to protect himself from their loss, until _you_ , Owain,” Merlin whispered into Owain’s hair. “Had he lost you that night I believe he still would have died.”

The breathless cries, the destroyed sounds emerging from Owain were unlike anything a human should ever utter. He’d lost all strength in his legs yet was gripping Merlin tightly, screaming into his tunic, the sound terrifying in its grief.

The hurried footsteps up the steps up the stairs heralded Cassius’ breathless, worried approach, the Court Physician obviously having raced after the boy whose own grief and denial had apparently given him incredible strength and enduring if the Court Physician had been left so far behind. Cassius’ gaze met Merlin’s over Owain’s shoulder, his eyes wide in worry before realizing what was happening, and those eyes then filled with pain as he motioned that he would be outside to give Owain the privacy he needed.

Nodding, Merlin held the shuddering, screaming boy tightly, until all strength finally left Owain and he collapsed limply in his arms, completely drained. The sorcerer picked the unconscious manservant up into his arms with assistance from his magic, and made the way down the stairs to find Cassius visibly trying to keep his composure and not sure how much this affected him.

The Court Physician cleared his throat and turned to face them, worried once more when he realized Owain wasn’t conscious.

“He’s sleeping,” Merlin was quick to assure him. “I think he must have used up every bit of energy he had racing to find me, how he managed to get up those stairs is… _shocking_.” 

“I should have waited for him to be stronger, I should have—-but his first words were to ask of the king and I could not find it in me to lie to him,” Cassius whispered hoarsely, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Out of all of us, he was the closest to the king, rivaled only by you, yet in a completely different way.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I worry about how he will be able to cope with this, the last eight years he’s spent dedicated to the king and nothing else.”

“I worry too,” Merlin admitted, ordering his magic to seep in under Owain’s closed eyelids, to give him happy dreams, to allow him to sleep restfully so that he might awaken stronger, more fortified, for the grueling truth of what waking life brought. “Bayard left provisions for Owain should he pass, although I am sure he thought his age would take him and not—-.” He cleared his throat. “He did it years ago, only myself, a few scribes, and needed witnesses to vouch for the validity of those provisions, know of this. We have already started the process so they may be ready when Owain is ready to accept them and what they mean.”

“I was worried about his position in the Court,” Cassius admitted. “Now that the king is dead Owain—his importance would be up in the air, as well as…”

“He has been taken care of, there was not one thing the king did not think of, and if he did forget something, he made sure to amend the provisions with witnesses to corroborate his changes.” Merlin shifted Owain’s weight in his hands. “I cannot vouch for his mental or emotional state, but his physical wellbeing has been very meticulously taken care of.”

Nodding, visibly relieved to hear that, Cassius sighed. “Can you help bring him to the infirmary?”

“Of course,” Merlin replied, having already planned to do so. He took the first step, waiting for Cassius to follow before continuing. “Does this mean Guinevere is awake as well?”

“Not as yet,” Cassius replied with a shake of his head. “But I expect she will be soon as well, which I am sure will relieve both the queen and Sir Elyan greatly.” 

“Sir Elyan?” Merlin asked in confusion. He’d seen the handsome knight around a few times, and had heard that he was extremely cunning for someone having been born and raised in Camelot, but other than that he had not ever spoken to the man, who had been amongst the group to escape from Camelot alongside Arthur. “Why would it affect him so greatly?”

Cassius’ eyes widened. “Did you not know that Sir Elyan is Guinevere’s _brother_?” 

No. He had not. “I see, I knew that the blacksmith was her father but not that Sir Elyan was her brother.” He shook his head. “I mostly hear of him from Geraint or Montague, although I do believe I have seen him around Sir Percival once or twice.” He frowned and tilted his head. “This is the second time I have been surprised by a knight of Camelot.”

“How so?” The Court Physician wanted to know.

“Well, first I was surprised by Arthur’s age, as I knew Camelot’s rules concerning the earliest age for a knight being eighteen, although I suppose that does not count considering Arthur merely _dressed up_ as a knight to sneak into battle.” He raised his eyebrow. “But I am _sure_ that Camelot had a rule regarding only the sons of nobility being able to claim the title of knight.”

“They do have that rule,” Cassius confirmed. “I asked Lancelot about this one night and he said that apparently Sir Elyan was a special case, as he had not only continuously proved himself in battle, but proved instrumental in a very secret quest that Uther had commissioned from the knights. Sir Elyan had gone along as an additional sword to assist the knights, but had it not been for him the quest would have been a failure, and whatever it was that King Uther wished from this quest, its successful completion was enough for him to make an exception and knight Sir Elyan.”

Merlin stored this information within him, intrigued. 

Cassius opened his mouth to say something else when two Northumbrian soldiers passed them in the hallway with nods, the Court Physician watched them until they disappeared from sight before he turned to Merlin with a raised eyebrow. “Can we truly trust them, Merlin?”

“They have need of us,” Merlin responded. “In many ways they need us more than we need them.”

That visibly calmed Cassius, who let out a stuttered with a nod, the Mercian in him understanding that sort of alliance far more than one out of pure _desire_ to ally. “I forgot to ask earlier, but where is Arthur? I expected him to be by your side, bullying you into eating or drinking or something of the sort.” 

“He’s gone to have a first look at the potential swain who have passed the physical appearance qualifications,” Merlin responded with a soft smile at the realization that either Arthur bitched to Lancelot and Cassius about Merlin’s habit of forgetting to do those things - or it was actually common knowledge in the Mercian Court that Arthur was that bossy. Then again, Arthur _did_ help train the knights so everyone _had_ to know of his nature by now. “He’d wanted to wait until the final selections were made, but Montague and Killian were having some differences in opinion regarding some of the applicants and sought his perspective in the subject.”

“Well, considering he has so obviously tamed our fearsome Grand Court Sorcerer, Arthur is being referred to as The Supreme Consort by certain circles, and is generally being lauded as a standard to be emulated. It would make sense for those two to seek out his opinion,” Cassius informed Merlin with a little chuckle. “There is, of course, the tiny fact that Arthur has not even acquired the actual _title_ of Consort as yet, but the doubt that was lingering in Court whether he would is rapidly diminishing.”

Pride welled up in Merlin’s chest at the praise and recognition his mate deserved. The sorcerer had long known his boy was superior to all else, and was more than pleased that the rest of the Court were realizing it as well. 

* * *

 

King Bayard’s death was mourned by Mercia in the only way they could, by throwing themselves even fiercer into the the training, into the preparation needed to get revenge. His funeral was one befitting a Mercian King, presided over by those closest to him, with not one tear being shed as it would dishonor his memory. Mercians hardly ever died peacefully, especially those in the Court, and to die in battle or in a fight was the most noble of ways to go. 

Owain had stayed in the back of the court, refusing to go near the casket. He’d kept his head bowed throughout the entirety of the service and had slipped out of the room the second it was over, but not before Merlin had seen him brushing at his face as he raced away.

Bayard’s remains had been consumed by fire, his ashes taken by the wind so that he could become a part of the kingdom he had loved. His death was only made graver by the fact that they had yet to hear from Sir Percival or those who had journeyed to Escetia.

Owain did not come out of his quarters for days following the funeral, not allowing anyone in save Morgana herself, the queen having made it her mission to be there for him, as only the two of them could understand the depths of their loss. 

The men vying for a position in the vanguard overflowed the towns surrounding the capital, all awaiting their assigned training days to prove their worth to the knights. While there had been many applicants for the vanguard upon its announcement, a seemingly endless wave of Mercians journeyed towards the capital upon news of their king’s death, all with fury and a desire for vengeance. 

They were not the only ones. The potential swain flocked to the capital as well, and Merlin had had to construct a separate, ever expanding building to house them separately. Arthur and Fionn had done the best they could on their own, but after the third incident where Arthur realized Merlin had been so distracted that he hadn’t eaten any of the food Arthur had had Sefa bring him, the blonde had stormed down to Owain’s room. Merlin did not know what Arthur said to him from the other side of the door, but Owain finally left his room and threw himself completely into the duties Bayard had entrusted on his shoulders before his death. It was Owain who truly took charge of the swain situation, bringing ever-living fear and respect out of the swain, finally allowing Fionn and Arthur to more evenly balance their swain duties with those they had regarding their respective masters.

Merlin, for his part, was torn in multiple directions. Not only was he still trying to discover the traitor in their midst, but he was researching the royal curse, Bayard’s secret assignment, _and_ in the process of crafting the darker spells and rituals Bayard had assigned him to create. There was also the fact that Valiant seemed to be taking his frustrations out on Daegal even more than usual, so the druid was constantly in need of renewal, which Merlin was happy to provide, but which ate into the very little time he actually had. And then it was made worse by the news which had finally researched them from their far too quiet allies.

King Cenred and Queen Morgause of Escetia were dead, had been killed by Aurelius Ambrosius' sorcerer as had been feared.

The news of Escetia's fall hit the kingdom hard, not only had the king and queen perished that night, but so had every member of the royal family , as well as their judges and many - if not most - of their lords as well. This was the ‘fun’ Camelot’s sorcerer had spoken of, the reason he had tarried ‘too long’. Sir Percival, who'd apparently been a distant cousin of King Cenred, was left heir apparent to Escetia, and the warrior (who was truly reluctant and uncomfortable in his new position of power) had immediately strengthened their ties with Mercia in a drastic way - by opening the borders to Escetia completely.

The reason Mercia had not heard from Sir Percival sooner was due to the fact that Escetia had found itself under attack by bandits, packs of bloodthirsty rogues and greedy war lords, by men clearly sent to slaughter the villagers and decimate the population while making their way towards the capital. Sir Percival was not a king, was not a ruler, but he _was_ a warrior, and his first act as the sole remaining royal family member was to offer wardship of Escetia to Mercia. He would have probably been met with more resistance from his people if they were not being slaughtered, but they were, so he had been able to make the offer to Mercia, which Morgana had immediately accepted, acquiring Escetia from her deceased sister and adding it and its people to her kingdom.

As the bordering kingdoms merged with each other as best as they could during this time of turmoil, Mercian and Escetian forces joined together even stronger than before, mixing within both kingdoms, fortifying. Merlin found himself having to develop new spells to protect and assist the people of what had once been Escetia, as not only were they being overwhelmed by the forces attacking them, but apparently Escetia had been suffering a silent decline for years, yet Cenred had been too proud to admit that there was something wrong and seek help for his people.

With Northumbria and Caerleon in the battle now, the new Mercia had a better chance of surviving this war, and any moment Merlin wasn't working on spells to strengthen the warriors' armors and weapons, he found himself on that pet project Bayard had had him on before his death. He had a feeling that they would need this, and it was more worth the danger than it had ever been before.

Feeling the literal knock against the invisible door his magic tended to make whenever Merlin was very very _very_ distracted and thus vulnerable to attacks, Merlin glanced up in surprise, trying to feel who the other person was. It was one of the knights from Camelot who had managed to escape to Mercia with some of the refugees once word of Arthur’s safety had reached their ears.

“Come in,” he called, his magic allowing passage.

Footsteps thudded on the steps before Sir Leon of Camelot appeared and gave a respectful half-bow. “Pardon my intrusion, Grand Court Sorcerer, but I would like to ask for a minute of your time if that were possible.”

“Of course.” Merlin motioned to the seat Arthur usually took while keeping him company. He’d spoken to Sir Leon a few times while Arthur had been around, and he was surprised to realize that Leon’s extreme respectful behavior was not just something he did around his prince regent but seemed to be his actual nature. “Please sit, Sir Leon. How may I help you?”

Moving to sit down on the seat, Sir Leon cleared his throat and kept his gaze respectfully lower than Merlin’s.“I know this is not my place, Grand Court Sorcerer, and I will understand if I am punished for what I am about to do, but I need to speak my peace.”

Even more curious than before, wondering if he was about to be scolded in the most polite way ever for having very publicly made the heir to Camelot his cock warmer, Merlin nodded for the dark blonde to proceed. “Please, speak your mind, Sir Leon.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, took in a deep breath, and finally spoke. “Prince Arthur has always been very brash, somewhat immature and prone to acting on impulse without thinking through of the consequences of his actions. To be quite frank, and I do not mean to speak disparagingly of my prince, but before he came to Mercia he was not only very cocksure and arrogant, but somewhat of a bully. Despite this, he has always had the love, and most importantly the _respect_ , of his people, and his knights.” Ah, this was most _definitely_ about Merlin having made Arthur his cock warmer. “We do not acknowledge his uncle as our king, to us Prince Arthur is the true ruler and will always be so.” Sir Leon gripped the material of his pants tightly. “And yet Prince Arthur has told us that while he plans on dethroning that cruel, tyrannical oppressor, and freeing the people from his rule, that he will allow Mercia to take wardship of Camelot.”

Merlin’s eyes widened in surprised. Of all the directions he’d assumed this conversation could take, _this_ was not what he had expected.

“He has not asked us to do so, but in telling us that he does not plan to fight to take the throne for himself… our prince is unwittingly telling us that if we fight, we fight to belong to _Mercia_.” Sir Leon took in a deep breath, clearly finding it hard to come to terms with that. “We are cleaved in half, with part of us trying to accept his decision and the other half,” Sir Leon hesitated. “The other half is _already_ far too enamored with Mercian _customs_ to be considered anything _but_ Mercian already.”

When this conversation had started Merlin figured he knew where it was probably going, but if he was being honest he was completely clueless as to where Leon was actually headed. Merlin couldn’t prepare for something he couldn’t anticipate, so this left him very uneasy.

“And there is _Escetia_ to be considered,” Sir Leon continued on, only further confusing Merlin. “We had not considered that Prince Arthur would truly do so until Lord Percival not only gave up the rulership of Escetia, but he basically _begged_ Queen Morgana to take it from him. Now that he is back he does not show any regret for the action, but was even reluctant to take the lordship Queen Morgana bestowed upon him.”

That was true. Percival did not seem comfortable being referred to by the title of lord, and very visibly flinched whenever anyone used it. There had to be a story behind that, especially considering he did carry royal blood in him.

“Before, the Escetians were on the same level as those from Camelot, but now we have fallen to the bottle of the totem pole.” Sir Leon made a face, clearly believing he could have worded that better and annoyed at himself. “I mean to say that our position within the Mercian Court is more precarious by the minute, Grand Court Sorcerer.” He took in a very deep breath. “We as a people are very proud, of our culture, our heritage, our blood and of our monarchs. It never occurred to us that our Prince Regent might not want the throne.”

_Ah._ So this wasn’t about Merlin tupping their prince so much as it was about that tupping keeping Camelot from having the ruler it desired.

“There are those of us who refuse to be led by one who was not born to the position,” Sir Leon explained slowly, carefully, clearly realizing how dangerous this could get for him. “And there are those who realize that although Queen Morgana is not a monarch we could approve, her _child_ could be.” He took in another deep breath. “That child, be it girl or boy, would be given kingship of Mercia as it is customary in your kingdom to allow a female to rule. And that child, be they girl or boy, would have the bloodright, the _birthright,_ to Camelot.”

And again Merlin was completely wrong in his assumptions as to what exactly this conversation was all about.

“ _That child_ would have within it blood connections to the ruling families of not only Camelot and Mercia but _Escetia_ as well.” Sir Leon straightened his hips and raised his gaze to finally meet Merlin’s. “It is _that child_ who is the _only one_ we could accept as Camelot’s ruler in Prince Arthur’s stead.” He looked a little embarrassed all of a sudden. “And, to be quite frank with you, Grand Court Sorcerer, given our prince’s _obvious_ inclinations and obsession with you, even before we lost Camelot the people had accepted the possibility of him never producing an actual heir of his own.”

Shock filled the sorcerer as he stared at Sir Leon. “Surely that cannot be the case. While I was thought of as dead—-.”

“Grand Court Sorcerer, please forgive me for interrupting, but while Prince Arthur played around with maids before his capture, ever since he returned from Mercia, as far as the kingdom is concerned, he has had no other lover but you.” Sir Leon cleared his throat. “And it was not for a lack of trying on King Uther’s part, especially at first. There were even rumors that certain _potions_ had been used to _encourage_ Arthur, but they’d had no effect. The king brought in prettier maids, he even brought in a pretty _boy_ once, and some of a few of the knights offered themselves to him but Arthur declined them all.”

Merlin just _stared_ at Sir Leon in utter disbelief. 

“It is only due to the fact that we had already considered the possibility of one of the future royal nieces or nephews to be appointed as heir apparent that this is easier to swallow,” Sir Leon admitted wry before he suddenly, inexplicably, blushed and turned scarlet. “Unless, of course…”

Why was he blushing? What could he possibly say _now_ that would cause him embarrassment when talking about Arthur’s sex life had not? “Unless _what_ , Sir Leon?”

The knight gulped and fidgeted in his seat. “Unless, of course, there are _ways_ around that.”

A darkness formed in Merlin’s chest at the realization of what he was being asked. “There are ways around everything,” he drawled, not letting the knight realize just how pissed off he was at being asked if there were ways for him to encourage Arthur to tup some bint and get her pregnant. 

Going absolutely puce, Sir Leon looked up at him, straight into his eyes, his own very wide. “You will have to excuse me, Grand Court Sorcerer, I do not mean to insult you, but you are truly _terrifying_.”

It was the confusion that tempered his growing anger as Merlin tilted his head to the side. “And here I thought the news would be agreeable to you.”

“It _is_ agreeable to me! To our people!” Sir Leon insisted immediately. “It has been agreeable - and a hope - to _many_ since news of the magnitude of your power reached us! We had not dared to hope - but a part of us had - and after Daegal we had wondered - and _now_..!” He looked completely conflicted. “This is _why_ —-.” Sir Leon stood immediately and bowed his head. “I apologize for wasting your time, Grand Court Sorcerer, but we cannot in good faith pledge ourselves to the heir of another kingdom when it is possible for our _true_ regent to, with the assistance of your transformative power, one day give Camelot its _rightful_ successor.”

It took Merlin far too long to actually get what Sir Leon was saying, and the second he _did_ Merlin realize that _once again_ he had had _no idea_ what sort of conversation he’d been having for the last couple of minutes. No _wonder_ Sir Leon had been so horribly embarrassed! The shock of the ever proper Sir Leon asking about _such a thing_ kept Merlin speechless, the sorcerer unable to find his voice despite the way his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

“We apologize, for we cannot accept Mercia’s rule.” Sir Leon kept his head bowed. “We will do all in our power to assist you in the battle, but I pray you, Grand Court Sorcerer, consider your ties to this realm now that King Bayard is gone. With you standing beside Prince Arthur a true peace could be made with Mercia. We would happily outstretch our arm to Mercia in brotherhood, especially with Camelot’s blood in the heir’s veins. But we will accept no other other monarch on our throne other than our Prince Regent, and he will have no other but _you_.”

“You are one person.” Merlin finally found his voice and was very shocked at that. “I doubt the rest of Camelot would be ready for a Mercian on their throne, much less for Mercia’s customs to infect their kingdom.”

Sir Leon paused, a strange expression on his face, before his cleared his throat and kept his head bowed. “I have also come here, Grand Court Sorcerer, to offer the knights of Camelot for the rituals you are planning on placing on the Mercian and Escet—-on the _Mercian_ knights. We have spoken of this issue amongst ourselves and wish to join in, with a few of our men who were not knights wishing to fight for the vanguard.” His lips twitched. “To be quite frank, Grand Court Sorcerer, a few of the men Owain has been running away from the swain’s residence have actually been from Camelot and this is the only way I can think of keeping them from committing some act that will get us all in trouble. When I brought the idea to the men… there were none who hesitated to agree.”

Merlin just _stared_ at Sir Leon, realizing there was _much_ more to the man than his perceived properness.

“I think you would find that while those still in Camelot under that traitor’s rule might be… taken aback, by the changes in the Court under the new rulership, those who return with us from Mercia will no doubt _heartily_ assist in easing the transition,” Sir Leon assured him in a cool tone. “And considering those of my men who have not become enamored in the swain have found lovers in the serving crew or other Mercian soldiers… I believe the new Camelot’s Court will undoubtedly be one not so very foreign to you.”

Merlin tilted his head back as suspicion filled him. “Sir Leon, forgive me if I am wrong - but did you come here _specifically_ to tempt me with the idea of corrupting Camelot’s Court?”

A flush touched those cheeks but Sir Leon did not back down. “I apologize, Grand Court Sorcerer, that was not noble of me.”

It was incredibly Mercian, though, and it gave Merlin pause as he eyed the knight in growing intrigue. “Are you telling me that Camelot wishes for me to… impregnate… its future king?”

“We’re _imploring_ you to,” Sir Leon corrected immediately.

Merlin honestly had never been more shocked in his life. “And this is not just a few of the knights desperate for some reason not to submit to Mercia’s rule?”

“This is a _consensus_ ,” Sir Leon informed him dutifully. “This is something those in Camelot started to ponder after despairing that they would have some foreign child assume the throne due to our prince’s inclinations. To be quite blunt, the people of Camelot are elitist snobs who would much prefer a child born of magic than one descended from Uther’s mistress. It is not right, it is not kind, but it is Camelot’s way.”

“And yet you came in here to confirm Camelot’s reluctant acceptance of Queen Morgana’s child,” Merlin reminded him suavely, wondering exactly how Sir Leon would get himself out of that.

The knight looked, surprisingly enough, embarrassed. “I came here, Grand Court Sorcerer, to ascertain whether you _could_ beget a child with our regent, and to sway you to the idea of leaving Mercia for Camelot after the war ended. I just had a hard time building up to my actual questions.” He cleared his throat. “Had it been impossible fora true heir to be conceived we would have been forced to accept the Mercian Successor, but not because we wanted to. It would, no doubt, have caused _much_ strife and uprisings, most probably even civil war should Camelot be taken by Mercia.”

Honestly, having heard that, Merlin was not sure it was wise to dispel the misunderstanding and explain he very much doubted his powers of transformation were _that_ powerful. And there was also the problem of actually impregnating someone, much less another male. With the history of the difficulty of _his own_ birth, it just seemed impossible and utter folly to even _consider_ it. And yet Sir Leon’s words were very troubling.

Merlin had known that Camelot would not take to the joining with Mercia as well as Escetia had, but he had not expected what he was hearing. He’d believed, erroneously it seemed, that Camelot would accept the child, and Morgana herself, due to their strong blood ties to the kingdom, but if Sir Leon could be believed - and Merlin felt he could - that would not be the case. Camelot - the joke of Albion due to their repressed and prudish behavior - was desperate enough to not only ask him to breed with their _prince_ , but had offered their Royal Court for his corruption. If that didn’t promise Camelot would try to destroy Mercia from within should they be acquired, _nothing_ did.

“I will have to think about what you have asked,” Merlin informed Sir Leon because _he would_ have to think about it. He did not want war for Bayard’s child, and he needed to join Mercia and Camelot to save its life, yet, maybe, he could find a way around this somehow. He just needed time - which he had very little of.

“Thank you, Grand Court Sorcerer.” Sir Leon straightened with a smile. “And please, remember to count Camelot in for the upcoming rituals.” With that Sir Leon left.

Merlin watched him go.

* * *

 

The ‘Camelot situation’ Sir Leon had brought to his attention still bothered him even when evening slowly started to cast reds and purples in the sky. It wasn’t the only problem though, Mercia and Mercians were definitely getting stressed, the lack of a battle yet the shame of such a loss was getting to everyone in the castle, and that was that they had yet to undergo the newer rituals Merlin was trying to craft up in the tower while working on so many _other_ urgent projects.

This buildup was very easy to spot all over the castle as Merlin took a stroll to try and clear his head with a change of scenery. 

It was obvious in the way that the knights with pets or fixed lovers were spending more and more time in their rooms.

It was obvious in the way that the knights _without_ pets or lovers were making due with whatever was around them.

He had more than the ‘Camelot situation’ to worry about.

“What exactly has Mercia so… _tightly strung_?” A voice asked curiously behind him.

Turning, Merlin eyed the young king, who had been locked in meetings with Morgana, Sir Percival, and Arthur for the last couple of days. Merlin should have been in those meetings, but he’d excused himself, saying Arthur would keep him abreast of anything he needed to know. He couldn’t waste time, just couldn’t. Not now. Not when more and more issues were piling up all around them.

“Simon, are you not supposed to be in a meeting right about now?” He asked curiously.

“Bathroom break, even a king needs to shit sometimes,” Simon replied with a mischievous smile, coming to join his side with waving an empty bottle of salve in his hands. “I’m finding these littering the castle. I knew Mercia was the closest kingdom to match our love of sex but I’ve found _ten_ already and I have not actually been searching for them.” He chucked it over towards Merlin. “Does this have anything to do with the upcoming dark moon?”

Catching the empty bottle of salve, Merlin eyed it before crushing it into non-existence in his palm. “Why would it have to do with the dark moon?” He asked carefully.

Simon rolled his eyes and moved closer to lean in and whisper in his ear. “You and I _both_ know how the dark moon affects those with dark magic in them.” He pulled away and smirked as he eyed Merlin up and down. “You are actually looking very _composed_ all things considered."

“I have Arthur,” Merlin explained and left it at that since that was all that needed to be said. “Whoever is burning through these containers obviously does _not_ have someone like Arthur in his life.”

A disturbed expression crossed Simon’s face before he moved closer. “You know, I wondered how long you would play this role, and I’m starting to wonder if _I_ am not the one you’re trying to fool.”

“Since when do you beat around the bush?” Merlin wanted to know in a casual tone.

Simon grinned. “What I _meant_ to say, Merlin, is you have been putting up _quite_ the barrier around your mind. I can’t quite find a way passed it.”

“That was the point,” he assured him in that same casual tone. “I know you went poking in my mind that first night and I don’t want a repeat.”

“Do you not trust me?” Simon asked in hurt.

“Not at all,” Merlin replied.

Simon’s hurt lasted for a second before he grinned. “Well, I suppose I do not need to get into your mind when Arthur’s is so _open_.” He smiled innocently. “It’s been very fun to spread memories of you and me alllll over the room these last couple of days and watch him trying his best to ignore them and pretend he can’t see them or hear them.”

Merlin frowned in disbelief. That couldn’t be true. There was no way that Arthur would’ve kept silent if that had been the case. Arthur would’ve complained, would’ve bitched, would’ve…

And then he froze, remembering Arthur’s guilt regarding Valiant. He’d said he’d wanted to protect Merlin, and he supposed that the boy gritting and baring this would be his version of it considering Arthur knew that if Merlin found out he would’ve confronted Simon. And the last time Merlin and confronted someone who tormented Arthur Merlin’s psyche had carried the brunt of the consequences.

A sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. “That stupid, loyal boy.”

Clearly not having expected that reaction, Simon frowned sincerely this time. “What sort of spell does Arthur _have_ over you? You are so different from when you visited Northumbria.”

“I am not quite sure, he can be such a pain in the ass,” Merlin admitted fondly. “But he’s loyal, strong, sincere, and does his best to protect me despite the fact that I am _a Master Sorcerer_.” He moved closer to Simon and cupped his face, tilting it up to look him in his golden eyes. “So I am going to have to ask you very nicely, King Simon, to stop teasing him. Or I will get jealous.”

Simon licked his lips and gulped as he stared up at Merlin. “What do I get in return?”

Shifting his grip to hold Simon’s chin, Merlin brought him close to his lips only to whisper, very softly, against them: “ _How about: I won’t kill you?”_

A shiver raced through Simon’s body as his eyes darkened, all around them were images, memories, of Merlin’s hands wrapped tightly around Simon’s throat, choking the air out of his longs.

Merlin glanced around, realizing these were projections on the wall and not actual images beamed into his head, which meant that Simon didn’t _need_ permission to get in his head to actually show him things, which was new information for him. He then felt something pressing against him and lowered his gaze between them before those gold eyes returned to Simon. “I’d forgotten about this _habit_ of yours.”

“I, on the other hand, haven’t forgotten a _thing_ ,” Simon replied breathily.

“Except, of course, your _meeting_ ,” another voice declared from behind them. “Which was why I was sent to find and retrieve you.”

Merlin flinched and looked up to see Arthur standing there. He wasn’t sure whether Arthur could see the violence projected around them on the walls, but if the way the prince kept forcing his wandering gaze back angrily at Simon… he _could_. This was _not_ the version of himself that Merlin wanted Arthur to see. He done things in Northumbria that even _he_ had not been proud of.

“Arthur, can you not see that Merlin and I are catching up on good old times?” Simon asked innocently as he motioned to the walls all around them, confirming that Arthur _could_ see the memories.

“King Simon, I do not think it is beneficial to our peace treaty if Merlin kills you,” Arthur replied evenly, a hint a smirk on his lips, proving he’d been there longer than Merlin had realized. “So before you push his buttons a little _too_ hard, we should be heading back.”

A muscle jumped in Simon’s cheek before he took in a deep breath and smiled at Merlin. “We _will_ finish our conversation,” and with that he turned and allowed Arthur to lead him back to the meeting room.

* * *

 

"You should not be climbing those stairs in your condition,” Merlin mumbled after the meeting had finally adjourned for the day. He knew that it wasn't his place to reproach the Queen, but he couldn't help himself, for she'd been the wife of his king and was carrying the heir to the Mercian throne within her womb. Along with Owain, he and Morgana were the three most mourning the king's passing, yet were also the ones who truly weren't allowed to show that in public as to not appear weak, and it had allowed the three to further bond over their mutual, hidden pain. "You are in a fragile condition."

"I've never been fragile, Merlin,  _never_." Morgana had the fortitude of a warrior despite her terribly pale complexion and petite figure. "It would be good for you to realize that."

He sighed, leaning against the wall in his tower, eyeing the queen.

Guinevere was back on her feet and serving her queen again, and she seemed just as worried as Merlin about Morgana stubbornly climbing up all of those steps to his tower whilst in her condition.

Merlin eyed the worry lines on the queen’s usually pristine face. "How have you been sleeping?" The dark circles under Morgana's eyes betrayed her continuing problems in that department since Bayard's death, Guinevere having moved into the queen’s room permanently to take care of the woman who'd wake up screaming in the nights. "I do not wish to give you a stronger potion than the one I am giving you now as I do not know the effects it might have on the child."

"I am fine, it is  _Mordred_  I am worried about." Morgana was, as always, a faithful sister to the boy, and quite the mother as well. "It has been too many moons without an owl or a pigeon or  _any_  sign that he is safe-that he lives." She brought her hand to her heart. "With Bayard's death, my sister’s— _my mother’s_ —I cannot lose my brother  _as well,_  Merlin."

Pushing away from the wall, Merlin moved to the queen, placing his hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "Mordred is alive and well. If any ill had befallen him I would have felt it."

"But would you have told me?" Her voice trembled. "You said it yourself, you believe me in a fragile state. Would have have told me of my brother's demise if you thought it would put my child at risk?"

Merlin stared down into Morgana's eyes before sighing, removing one hand from her shoulder to curl under her chin and raise her face so that those tear-filled blues were on him. "I swear to you that your brother is alive and well. I  _swear_  it by Bayard."

Morgana searched his eyes, a silent tear making its way down her cheek, before she nodded and took in a deep breath. "Thank you, Merlin, not only for that.” She raised her gaze again to him. "You had no reason to accept King Simon's condition, you are no longer bound to the Mercian throne, but you agreed to assist for Mercia and I am forever grateful to you for this."

Merlin merely nodded and pulled away, hands clasping behind his back. “Given the fact that his curse and the one on your child are the same it works in our favor.”

Morgana nodded and she rubbed her stomach protectively. 

Merlin took in a deep breath, knowing this was not the time, but time was of the essence. “Morgana, I am going to tell you something that you will not like being told.”

She looked up at him curiously, a little warily. “Is there something wrong with my child?”

“No,” he hurried to assure her. “What I mean to say is that in order to help save you and your child - and even King Simon - we need to join Camelot and Mercia.”

“Yes, the leylines, Bayard mentioned that to me when he finally told me about the curse,” Morgana agreed.

“I _will_ join Camelot to Mercia,” Merlin assured her. “But I need you to consider it as temporary, as an _actual_ wardship and not what Escetia are calling a wardship.”

Morgana looked surprised but not exactly upset. “This request does not come from Arthur, I know that much, so I’m going to assume someone else from Camelot has spoken to you and let you know that I am not recognized by the people.” Her words were blunt yet held no ire, sounding like someone who had known this for many years and had come to peace with it. “I also assume that you’ve been made aware that Camelot will never accept me as their sovereign, and realize that there will be turmoil should I pretend to be so.”

A muscle ticked in Guinevere’s cheek, clearly she was more affected by this than Morgana.

“Yes,” Merlin responded truthfully.

“Merlin, I told you before, I am _Mercian_ ,” Morgana informed him evenly. “I will happily give Camelot back once it has served its purpose and my child is no longer cursed.” She raised an eyebrow. “But what does that mean _for you_? Clearly it is Arthur who the people want as their king, but Arthur must provide heirs. I cannot see either of you being fine with him tupping some woman to have them.”

Guinevere suddenly blushed. “Unless the rumors were true?”

Merlin turned to Guinevere. “There truly _were_ rumors?”

The servant girl blushed darker and nodded. “Yes, before Camelot fell but much more prevalent now that Daegal—-.” She cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed. “I hate to ask but _is_ it true?”

“Not to my knowledge, no,” Merlin assured him, somewhat amused by the way her expression fell at that news. “Also, while I do not want to go into great detail about this, my father found it impossible to conceive with his wife, and she was _his wife_. A _woman_.”

“Yes, but I doubt she had your father’s magic _living_ inside of her like some separate entity,” Morgana huffed.

Merlin turned to her in confusion.

“Oh, do not play innocent with _me_ , your magic revealed itself the night Bayard—-.” Morgana stopped, cleared her throat, and continued on. “ _That_ night your magic reacted on its own, protecting us, and then giving me the strength I needed to save Owain. It showed a near sentience that night, Merlin, shifting and reacting to better protect Arthur without you having to even flash your eyes. Given the fact that Nimueh is rumored to have used some incredibly dark and forbidden magics to help Igraine conceive I can honestly say your getting Lord Valiant to fit inside of Daegal is far more of a stretch to me than you getting that brother of mine with child.” This was the first time Morgana had referred to him as a brother, and that clearly surprised and disturbed her. “Honestly though, Merlin, do you even _need_ to have a child given…?”

He knew what she was asking, and it was really the question he’d been asking himself as well.

“It would be so wonderful if he did though, and it would mean that cousins will sit upon the thrones of Mercia and Camelot,” Guinevere pointed out helpfully, clearly very excited at the thought. “They could play together as children and that way a true alliance would have been formed by the time they take their thrones.”

“Exactly, and hopefully it would mean my child would not have to grow up with war,” Morgana declared before wincing as she touched her stomach in surprise. “I think that was a kick.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “The child is telling you to _go to rest_.”

Morgana's lips twitched as she glanced up at him. "You do not boss me, Grand Court Sorcerer. I now go to lay down for a moment because  _I_  feel tired. Not because you told me to." With that she turned to Guinevere, who was shooting Merlin a grateful look for getting the Queen to finally agree to get off of her feet for a while. "Shall we retire to bed, Gwen?"

"Of course My Queen." Guinevere smiled brightly at Morgana as the two women left the room and started their slow descent down the stairs.

Merlin went to the top of the stairs and watched the two women before his eyes flashed gold and both gave a little cry as they were lifted into the air before slowly being lowered all the way down to the floor at the bottom of the tower.

Guinevere’s eyes were wide and her giggle shocked as their feet finally touched the ground and the magic disappeared.

"I could handle some  _steps_  Merlin." And yet Morgana's voice was tinted with amusement as they opened the door and left, the door closing behind them.

Above them Merlin smirked before closing the door and going back to what he'd been doing. 

* * *

 

Honestly, Merlin had only gone to the swain residence because it had needed enlarging again. That was _all_. It wasn’t as if he had been painfully hard for a while now, or a little worried after Arthur had seen those images, and so had begun searching all over for his pet to satiate him or anything like that. Not at all. Merlin had come to the residence with no hidden intentions _at all_.

Unlike the other men of the Mercian Court that were being beaten away with a metaphorical stick his only interest was in making sure the place was large, and that the wards allowed no one to sneak inside and have fun with one of the swains before it was time.

He’d known Arthur was around somewhere though, so, really, what was the harm in spending a little more time there? He’d stuck around, searching the place until finally hearing his lover’s voice, following it back to a large classroom of sorts, where Owain was in the middle of giving, what appeared to be, a sexual education lesson of some sort with Arthur chiming in here and there.

The swains stared in rapt attention, their gazes going from Owain to the different drawings on the walls showing masters being pleased by their pets. In one of the pictures it was more than obvious that the master had been at it for hours, his pleasure leaking thickly down the pet’s inner thighs and gathering on the floor between his feet in avery large puddle.

“The rituals that your masters will go through will leave them much closer to a monstrous version of an animal than human,” Owain was explaining as he pointed to the picture in question. “While he will be able to release some of that darkness in battle it will not be enough, which is why your roles are vital. Not just in wartime, but in times of peace you’ll find your duties even more invaluable as there will be no battles for them to release their darkness into, so it will be concentrated solely on _you_. You will be the _only_ thing keeping them from going insane or turning into a ravenous animal that will need to be put down.”

One of the swains gulped, eyes transfixed on where Owain was highlighting the point of penetration. “How long can mating periods like that last?”

Owain raised an eyebrow. “However long your master needs it to.”

“But is there a reference or approximation or anything like that?” Another of the swains wanted to know. “It’s got to be very painful for the body to have to go through that for hours.”

Owain’s lips twitched. “Hours. How adorable.”

Wide-eyed shock was circulated by the swains present at the implication.

“As for the answer to your question, there is no _official_ record for longest coupling,” Owain declared. “But the longest record that we _know_ of is held by Sir Donegal, and it stands at—.”

Merlin slipped into the classroom, mostly unnoticed, and let his magic encircle Arthur before he physically did, giving the blonde a heads up so he wouldn’t be too surprised. He didn’t press anything yet though, trying to feel out how Arthur was feeling after the whole confrontation with Simon.

“ _Hi_ ,” Arthur whispered with a smile as he settled back into Merlin’s chest, surprisingly calm. “Are you here to see me or them?” And yet his voice was teasing when he asked that so it was obvious he knew which.

“Definitely them,” Merlin teased back in utter relief as he pressed his hips into Arthur’s ass, letting him feel his need. He’d been working on crafting the rituals and spells, and to do so had taken quite a strain and effect on his body, leaving him desperately raring to be buried inside of his boy and unable to think at all until his need had been satisfied. Despite that he’d been worried about approaching Arthur considering what had happened earlier. Usually Arthur would be hissing and snarling, so while Merlin was very relieved for that not to be the case, he was also a little wary.

Arthur leaned his head back against Merlin and bit down on his bottom lip as Merlin tightened his grip around his waist, keeping him pinned against him as he rubbed his cock against Arthur harder. 

Merlin wanted the material between them gone but didn’t want to let go of Arthur to do it, and if he was being honest, the second he felt his bare cock sliding against Arthur’s uncovered ass he froze. He glanced down, confused because Arthur’s pants appeared to still be on, and yet there was no denying that he cock was now buried against the cleft of those asscheeks and rubbing against Arthur’s needy little hole.

Without even having to be asked, not even seeming to be curious as to how his ass was suddenly naked, Arthur reached behind himself and spread his cheeks open.

Not needing any further invitation, Merlin angled his hips and pressed his cockhead to that tight ring of nerves, working his ways slowly passed it before burying himself deep inside of Arthur with on fluid movement.

“Look at Arthur, for example,” Owain announced, drawing and directing the attention of the swains who hadn’t already realized what was happening. “No matter what he is doing, or where he is, nothing is more important than his fulfilling his master’s needs. Look at the expression on his face, how it’s twisted in pleasure even though the Grand Court Sorcerer has only just breached him. His body is not only used to this by now, but it craves the penetration.”

Arthur shot Owain a look which promised they’d talk about this later, but then visibly forgot all about the other young man and groaned when Merlin pressed his hips roughly up against his and began to move them in a circular motion.

“Notice how Arthur is arching his back at that angle, it has to be uncomfortable for him but it makes his master’s thrusts slide up smoother, deeper. From the way his own manhood is fighting against his trousers clearing the discomfort is worth it.” Owain was, apparently, going to use them as an example to teach the swains with something a little more tangible than his drawings. “Can anyone tell me another way of maximizing the penetration in those positions.”

Hands went up.

Owain turned to one of them. “Yes, Galvin?”

“Instead of leaning backwards into his master while curving his back, he could bend at his waist while keeping his hips arched instead,” Galvin replied dutifully. “He would probably have to spread his legs a little further apart too.”

“ _Very_ good,” Owain praised. 

Merlin’s hands moved from where they were wrapped around Arthur’s stomach to instead grip Arthur’s hips. “Well? Boy? What are you waiting for?”

For a moment Arthur clearly didn’t understand, and then he flushed and obediently bent, spreading his thighs slightly more as he arched his hips, only to yelp when, with the next thrust, Merlin slammed deep inside of him.

The sorcerer tightened his grip on his lover. “Steel yourself, Arthur.” And just like every time he said that, the threat tore a cry of anticipation from Arthur’s lips, which only served to make Merlin more determined as he started to slam Arthur mercilessly back into him.

* * *

 

When the knock sounded down below Merlin's magic reached out, questioningly, and when he discovered who it was he paused, curious, almost about to ignore the knocks and yet instead decided against it, the door opening.

He listened to the sound of the door closing, and then of hurried footsteps easily making the trip up the winding stairway, before finally the door opened to reveal Joffrey standing there.

Joffrey hesitated a second before entering and closing the door behind him. "It has been too long, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, having been slightly fond of this boy once upon a time ago due to the fact that he'd reminded him of Arthur with his arrogant nature.

Joffrey's gaze went to the window closest to him before turning to Merlin. "I do not want to be thought of as indiscreet, and so I'd be grateful if what I am about to say to you remains anonymous."

Merlin raised an eyebrow before nodding. "What troubles you?"

"It is probably nothing, and I am most probably reaching to conclusions, but I would prefer to have been paranoid than to not have said anything, and allowed something inexcusable to happen." Joffrey licked his lips, looking so unsure of himself and what he was doing that it reminded Merlin just how young the usually arrogant boy really was. "I've been hearing-comments-which have greatly disturbed me."

Merlin continued to eye him in silence.

Joffrey let out a little sigh. "At first I didn't think much about it because he'd made similar comments before the king-," he cleared his throat. "But since then, he's-his comments." Joffrey's gaze went to Merlin. "Lord Valiant believes that as kinsman of King Bayard his opinions should have more importance, that the queen should be relying on him to help rule the kingdom until the child she gives birth to comes of age. He says that she is snubbing him by not acknowledging his true position in the court. He is especially unhappy that she would join in alliance with Northumbria without-consulting-with him first."

"Consulting with him.” Merlin pondered over that with a little sneer before his blues went to Joffrey and he moved towards the boy. "You've done well in telling me this, and I will not mention you name."

"Thank you." Joffrey took in a deep breath before turning and leaving.

Merlin watched the boy leave, his words ringing in his ears.

He didn’t even realize how much time passed until the door opened and closed, his magic bringing the _other_ blonde up to keep him from taking the stairs, and Arthur, quite visibly exhausted, collapsed onto the bed Merlin’s magic had dropped him next to.

Amusement flickered through Merlin. “They can’t be _that_ bad, they’re Mercians. Most of us are given blades of some kind for our earliest birthdays.”

“Clearly something went wrong with these ones,” Arthur mumbled into the pillow.

Going over to the bed, Merlin let his magic yank off Arthur’s pants and shoes while he himself sat down on the edge of the bed. “Turn onto your stomach.

Despite clearly being tired, Arthur did as told, face into the pillow, legs spreading.

“While I admire your devotion given the fact that you’re barely conscious, that was not why I told you to do that,” Merlin chuckled as he ran his hand slowly down Arthur’s back, infusing him with his magic and making the inside of the prince’s body warm up, relaxing his tired muscles. “You work very hard, Arthur. I want you to know that I admire that.”

“Hhhhmmmmmm,” Arthur mumbled happily into the pillow, clearly very close to sleep. “Feels goooooood.”

“Happy you think so.” Merlin shifted so he could reach the blonde’s shoulders, beginning to massage them slowly, softly, feeling the tension slowly starting to leave them as Arthur moaned happily into the pillow. This sort of service was never one provided for by the master, but Merlin was more than happy to look after Arthur once in a while. He really _was_ taking on a lot of work, and Merlin was starting to get why Arthur worried about _him_ all the time because Merlin had caught himself double checking that Arthur had actually eaten in the mornings and such before running off.

“Why haven’t you done this before?” Arthur complained in a muffled voice as he shifted on the bed. “S’good.”

“Clearly you never earned it before,” Merlin replied softly with a straight face, not really wanting Arthur to delve too deeply into how exactly Merlin had learnt to do this. Its as tied to stations that Merlin would rather Arthur not know, situations he himself seemed to only now be slowly getting over, if his ability to do this and not feel disgusted with himself was anything to go by.“Now stop complaining and just enjoy yourself."

“Hmmmmmmmmhmmmm…”

“Arthur?” He asked, figuring the boy was already basically asleep. “I really _am_ proud of you.”

Arthur groaned as he lifted his head and stared out of one half opened eye. “Why are you buttering me up, Merlin? What exactly have you done?”

Laughing, Merlin shook his head and caught those lips quickly before pulling away. “See if I ever compliment you again."

“You compliment me all the time,” Arthur yawned as he lowered his head back to the pillow. “You tell me how tight and wet and warm I am.”

The sorcerer’s lips twitched. “I _do_ see you as more than just a hole to fill, you know.”

There was a frustrated groan before Arthur turned over onto his back, hands to his mouth as his yawned deeply. “I _know_ that. Doesn’t mean I don’t _like_ those compliments though. But these ones are nice as well.” He grinned. “Keep them coming."

“Noted.” He motioned for Arthur to turn back over and then raised an eyebrow when the blonde merely spread his legs again. “Not tonight, you obviously need some rest. So just be a good boy, turn over, and let me take care of _your needs_ for once.”

A curious expression crossed Arthur’s face, but then he smirked, looking all kinds of pleased and arrogant. “Merlin, you mightn’t understand it yet since it’s not something the demon will easily grasp, but you really do love me. And it’s not just for my very beautiful face and enviable physique.”

For some ridiculous reason Merlin was caught between embarrassment and amusement. “Ah, so _this_ is the famed pre-Mercia arrogance I heard so much about.”

“Who said I was _arrogant_?” Arthur squeaked, only to growl when he noticed Merlin’s finger motioning for him to turn over, which he did, very rebelliously. “ _Who_ said I was _arrogant_ , _Mer_ lin?”

“This won’t do, you went and tensed up again,” Merlin tutted as he slipped his middle finger deep inside of Arthur. “Now I am just going to have to work it out of you again.”

Arthur clutched at the pillow and groaned as he arched his hips into the touch.

“How was your day?” Slipping in another finger, Merlin rubbed Arthur slowly, softly, from within, magic gather at his fingertips and acting like extensions of them, allowing him to reach, to brush, to caress and massage deeper within.

“ _Really_ gooood,” Arthur moaned in deep appreciation.

Again that pulled an unexpected laugh from Merlin’s lips. “I mean _other_ than right now.”

“Bussssssyyyyy,” Arthur gasped and arched his back only to whimper when Merlin forced him back down, but that whimper turned into a cry when Merlin shifted his hand and rubbed his fingers against where Arthur had been trying to lead him to by arching his back. “ _Oh godssssss_!”

“I am sorry I did not know Simon was harassing you,” Merlin said softly as he searched diligently with those fingers. “I will take care of it, but not in any way you need to worry about.”

“ _Shhhhhhh_ ,” Arthur whined pitifully as he stretched on the bed. “Don’t say his name right _now_!”

“I am sorry for what he showed you,” Merlin continued softly. “Thank you for not flinching away from me when I came to you earlier.”

Confusion filtered over Arthur’s face as he tilted his head to the side to look up at Merlin from his position. His voice was hoarse with arousal and sleepiness when he asked: “When will you believe me when I say you do not scare me?”

“When you’ve seen the worse things I’ve done, and you do not hate me for them,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur stared at him in sleepy confusion before his eyes widened and he quickly bit down on the pillow to silence his screams.

_Ah_. There it was. Merlin concentrated on that area, massaging it softly. While their coupling was usually rapid, rough, violent and intense, Merlin’s pleasure and release was not what was searched for tonight. No. His fingers caressed while his magic bathed Arthur in tingling warmth, filling him with the sensation of millions of soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses all over his body.

It was evident that the pleasure was the only thing keeping the exhausted blonde awake, that he was fighting the need to give into oblivion, just so he could enjoy the feeling that was coiling in his stomach at the ministrations.

Shifting in the bed, Merlin leaned half on top of Arthur and pressed soft, tender kisses to the back of his neck.

“ _Merlinnnnnnnnn_ ,” Arthur groaned as desire dripped out of his front and his back, coating Merlin’s fingers with its sweetness.

“Are you close?” Merlin asked into the golden hair as his fingers caressed that spot inside of him that made his body twitch.

“Yesssssss!” Arthur sobbed, teeth clenched tightly into the pillow. 

“Good,” Merlin pressed a kiss to his hair, inhaling the scent. “Let go, Arthur.” He licked the shell of his ear as he whispered: “ _Come for me, Arthur_.”

Arthur didn’t cum immediately, but everything started some sort of avalanche inside of him that started with him trembling and ended with him crying out Merlin’s name into the pillow as his body jerked uncontrollably in his release.

Merlin pressed kisses to the side of his face and his hair as he rubbed Arthur through his orgasm, feeling him clenching against his fingers, before finally going lax. Only then did the sorcerer slip his fingers free, his magic working to clean the blonde and the bed, while Merlin kissed his hair softly, tenderly.

Arthur shifted and wrapped his arms around Merlin seconds, cuddling up into him second before he started to snore.

Merlin found himself trapped on the bed with a crap ton of work to do and a boner in his trousers, but he didn’t move other than to shift into a slightly more comfortable position and bring the sheets over them. He pressed a kiss to Arthur’s forehead before resting his own against it, and then closed his eyes.

Peaceful sleep claimed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or the one where Simon uses some of Merlin's darker memories to mess with Arthur's head.
> 
> Squick and very dubcon warnings apply.

To say Arthur did not like King Simon of Northumbria was putting it very lightly. It was not even solely the fact that Simon was, for all intents and purposes, trying to steal Arthur’s master away from him. No. His and Simon’s mutual dislike had stemmed from way back during Camelot and Northumbria’ s alliance. Simon had hated him before even meeting him, and to be honest, Arthur had been far from impressed by the lazy, indulgent sod himself. While their fathers had signed peace treaties, Arthur had known that once he and Simon took those crowns that treaty would be null and void. He figured the only reason Simon hadn’t done so immediately upon becoming king was because he was left trying to fix the many issues plaguing his kingdom because of this curse.

That was what made this whole thing all the more ironic. Arthur and Simon _openly_ detested each other and yet they were forced to work together no matter how unhappy they both were at it. And they were both extremely unhappy about this. Honestly, Arthur was very proud of himself for not having murdered Simon yet, especially since the king spent most of their meeting time showing Arthur all kinds of visions - whether they were memories or not he didn’t want to know - of Simon and Merlin. 

“What can you tell me about that druid boy?” Simon’s voice made any attempt at finding peace shatter.

Annoyed, Arthur looked up from where he’d been sharpening a sword in the armory. He went there when he was frustrated, it did him some good to fight, but _of course_ Simon had had to come and interrupt that! “Which druid boy? We have _many_ druids here.”

“The really petite one who’s constantly getting sodomized by the Mercian who _clearly_ has giant or ogre heritage.”

“Ah, you mean Daegal.” Not needing to ask any further questions considering the largest people in Mercia were Valiant and Percival, with Percival being the one _not_ tupping a druid. Percival, bless his soul, seemed to have a very large crush on Guinevere, and had somehow managed to miss - entirely - the fact that she was Morgana’s lover. Lancelot and Arthur had not had the heart to explain this to Percy as yet, but should he ever gather the courage to express his feelings for her they would have to pull him aside before he utterly embarrassed himself.

“Daegal,” Simon murmured as he went to eye the weapons on the walls. “What do you know about him?”

Reluctant intrigue filled Arthur as he turned to eyes the Northumbrian monarch. “What is your interest in him?”

“He and Merlin are close,” Simon responded immediately. “I am interested in those close to him.”

Telling himself to just answer the idiot’s questions and get him out of there as fast as he could, Arthur went back to sharpening the sword. “Merlin’s magic is helping Daegal’s allow him to take in Lord Valiant. He has to renew that energy inside of him often because it burns out or tries to go back to Merlin or something like that.” He didn’t quite understand it, and he didn’t quite like it, but Arthur had gotten, at least, that that wasn’t a sexual act, even if there was kissing involved. And, of course, merlin was doing that so Valiant would have an outlet and not bother _Arthur_ , so, honestly, there was nothing Arthur could say or do about that.

“How flattering.”

Confused, Arthur looked up again at him. “How is that flattering?”

“Obviously you must see me more of a threat,” Simon responded with a chuckle. “Because you do not appear to have issues with Merlin being so close to, and constantly kiss, Daegal despite the fact that they used to be lovers.”

Arthur froze. He’d suspected something might have happened between Daegal and Merlin, but considering Merlin had basically tupped the whole Mercian castle and Court that wouldn’t be a stretch. And yet the term ‘lover’ implied some sort of continuousness that he had not suspected.

“Oh. Did you not know?” Simon’s lips twitched, proving he’d known, very obviously, that Arthur had _not_ known. “I took a bit of a peek into Merlin’s brain that first night before his barriers went up. He’d let me in before, you see, because I _loved_ seeing what he was capable of doing, what he _had_ done, it turned me on. I had a lot of catching up to do since I had not seen him since Northumbria, and I needed to know what I was up against.” He looked Arthur up and down before returning his attention to the weapons, running his finger down the broadside of a sword’s blade. “I probably know more about him than you ever will.”

It wasn’t the taunt that got to him so much as it was the fact that, if Simon really _had_ delved into Merlin’s mind, he probably _did_. Arthur wasn’t an idiot. Merlin kept things from him, especially about himself, about his life, and especially about his life before Bayard. Arthur wasn’t sure what Merlin had done in his youth that could have been so horrible, but the sorcerer had made it clear, obvious times, that not only did he not want Arthur finding out, but that he was sure Arthur would be disgusted by him if he did. That assurance of his was both terrifying and insulting in equal measures.

“Would you like to see a memory of his?” Simon asked. “I have them all up here, and I replay them, over and over again, have for a very long while now.”

Arthur opened his mouth, although he was not sure what he was going to reply. On the one hand he wanted to respect Merlin’s privacy, but on the other he was desperate to try and understand what Merlin could possibly be hiding that he thought Arthur would never be able to accept.

Thankfully, Simon never gave him the chance to pick, and it helped ease Arthur’s guilt the second he felt his mind being invaded, all around hims shifting so that Arthur found himself in Merlin’s room - _their_ room. It was so incredibly real, so vivid, but Arthur could see differences to it, little details which proved this was not the room as he’d seen it during his days of slavery, or now. This was some other time in the room’s existence.

_“Let’s see if you have been paying attention to your lesson,” a voice said in the adjourning room, the storage room. It was a voice Arthur did not recognize, and he followed it towards the storage room. “What is a Cambion and how is a Cambion made?”_

_“A C-Cambion is part human and part demon, and it is born when an incubus or succubus r-rapes a human,” that was Merlin’s voice, but it was odd._

_Arthur made it to the door and froze, realizing that the storage room was not a storage room in this time, but some sort of study. There were books and maps and such, as well as a table and a few chairs._

_“Good,” the man, someone Arthur could not recognize, muttered. “And how does a Cambion feed?”_

_Merlin, a much younger Merlin than Arthur had ever seen, sat on the man’s lap, his face twisted, his grip on the edge of the table, his pale legs hooked on the outer side of the man’s legs, revealing the rod moving in and out of his body. “Sex.”_

_“Good. So we’ve established you haven’t forgotten all the things I taught you so long ago. Given that confirmation would you like to explain why you ended up hurting that poor girl earlier, Merlin?” The man asked into his hair. “She almost died, so you better know by now the consequences of being stupid.”_

_Shame filled Merlin’s face as he ducked his head._

_“_ **_WHY_ ** _did you nearly kill her, Merlin?” The man snapped into his ear._

_“B-because I w-wouldn’t feed,” Merlin responded quietly, in shame. “But I didn’t know it would make the demon lash out! I thought—I thought I would handle—I’d managed to hold out and I thought—I didn’t want her to get hurt! I like her!”_

_“You disfigured her, Merlin,” the man chided darkly as his hips began to move harder. “She’ll never see out of her left eye again and I doubt she’ll ever walk without a limp. She’ll need assistance for the rest of her life, and I doubt she will live a happy one. Because of you, Merlin, because of your selfishness, because of your immaturity, you have condemned her to live a terrible existence.”_

_Merlin scrunched his eyes just as tightly as his hands gripped the edge of the table. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Sorry won’t make her life less of a hell, will it?” The man wanted to know harshly. “When will I have to stop reminding you of the earliest lessons I gave you when you first were brought to Mercia by Bayardtwo years ago? You are not human! You are a monster! Bayard’s favor cannot be expected to continue if you keep making such foolish mistakes as these! He did not have to take you in, Merlin, he could have left you right where he found you.”_

_Merlin lowered his head. “I know that.”_

_“Then why do you keep spitting in his face like this?” The man wanted to know as he gripped Merlin’s hips and forced them roughly down on his lap so he could thrust in deeper._

_“I wanted to be normal,” Merlin whispered in shame. “I wanted to be like I used to be before this thing inside of me woke up and changed everything!”_

_“You’ll never be that way again, no matter how much you want it, you have the demon blood in your veins to thank for that,” the man groaned into his hair. “If it bothers you so much I will become your sole source of sustenance,” he rolled his hips higher. “And forget girls, Merlin, they are too fragile for someone like you. You’ve already proven just how easily breakable they are in your hands.” He plastered himself against Merlin’s back, eyes closed as he rested his chin on Merlin’s shoulder. “I’ll give you all the feeding you need.” His hands caressed Merlin’s chest under the material of his shirt. “After all, the king did put your well-being in my hands.”_

_And that was when Arthur realized how this man was, it was the old Court Physician, the Julius guy who Merlin had eventually turned mad. Staring at the smile on the man’s face, as his hands travelled possessively up and down the younger Merlin’s body, Arthur felt vicious anger fill him. Even if Merlin had unintentionally hurt this girl the man had clearly jumped at the opportunity to not only deride him, but clearly to be in the position he was now, selflessly offering himself up to pick up the ‘feeding’._

**_I hope he was in agony when he went insane_.**

“The girl died soon after this happened, she threw herself out of a window. Merlin blamed himself, I do not think he has ever forgiven himself for his part in her suicide.” Simon’s voice was like cold water. “It’s from this point on that Merlin almost exclusively took male lovers. It’s also the point where he stopped fighting his demon, where he started to see what he was doing not as _sex_ but as _feeding_. From what I’ve been able to see, he seemed to be exclusively a bottom until he topped a stable boy and realized he preferred that better.” He raised an eyebrow. “To say many of the Mercians in the castle were unhappy with his change in position preference was putting it _mildly_. But it did wonders for his mental health, which, I suppose, I can understand given everything.”

Given everything?

Oh. Right. Bayard had mentioned something about giving someone else that dominance hurting the demon inside of Merlin or something like that, and while it was odd, it made sense in a way. But if this was so, how had they not known it and allowed Merlin to go through experiences like that? Especially with the Court Physician, who seemed like an utter asshole.

“He keeps memories of this time, and what came before, very well guarded, it took me a _very_ long time in Northumbria, with him completely disoriented with pleasure, to get as much as I have, which, to be honest, is not as much as I would like.” Simon snapped his fingers.

The scenery changed, revealing a small village which surprisingly enough did not seem Mercian given the style of buildings. Merlin was there though, older than in the last vision but still much younger than he was now, but like before he was not alone.

_“I do not—this is not—-,” the man groaned as he tried very halfheartedly to escape. He was face down on the floor of a loft in what seemed to be a barn of some kind, his fingernails gripping into the wood and his toes curled._

_“This is not_ **_what_ ** _?” Merlin wanted to know, eyes gold as he knelt over him, stroking his cock._

_“I—I love my wife,” the man whimpered despite the way he was wriggling. “I have never cheated on her. I_ **_adore_ ** _her.”_

_“And?” Merlin wanted to know, head tilted, clearly confused as to why that should matter._

_“I love her,” the man tried again, yet groaned when Merlin leaned down, draped over his back, and pressed against his opening. “I do not want to hurt her.”_

_“Evan?” A female voice called out._

_The man’s eyes widened in horror._

_Merlin leaned in further to whisper into his ear. “If you do not want to hurt her, then I suggest you cover your mouth.”_

_Evan turned back to look at Merlin quickly before his eyes widened and he rapidly covered his hand with his mouth seconds before the sorcerer started to push his way inside of him. The man’s eyes rolled back in his skull, the hands over his mouth unable to truly muffle the sound of pleasure escaping him or the way he fought under the weight to further spread his thighs._

_Face twisting in vicious pleasure, Merlin began to rut into Evan roughly, not seeming to notice the sound of the wife’s voice growing ever closer. His partner did though, terror mixing in with his pleasure as he kept his hands tightly sealed over his mouth._

“ ** _Evan_** _? Where_ ** _are_** _you?” That voice was close to the door._

_A twisted smile touched Merlin’s lips as he slammed himself into Evan, using his magic to make the thrusts even more savage, forcing the young man, who’d been doing his best to try and muffle his sobs, to suddenly scream out._

_“Evan? Is that you?” His wife sounded worried as she hurried into the barn below and looked around. “Are you okay?”_

_Evan closed his eyes tightly, fingers gripping onto the wooden floor, but nothing could silence the thud of Merlin’s body slamming brutally into his._

_His wife glanced up at the hayloft and frowned as she moved towards the ladder and began her ascent._

_Evan buried his face in the floor in shame even as his hips arched up instinctively, causing him to sob desperately when the thrusts now reached him deeper._

_And that was how his wife found him, the woman staring in wide-eyed horror as her husband writhed under Merlin, who rammed into him aggressively. Her horror soon turned to anger as she glared furiously. “How_ **_could_ ** _you?”_

_“I’m_ **_so sorry_ ** _, Imogen!” Evan sobbed out, eyes tightly shut, clearly ashamed, yet also clearly pushing back into the thrusts. “I’m so sorry! I just—!”_

_“You said_ **_I_ ** _would be the on you’d be visiting!” The woman snarled at Merlin._

_Evan’s eyes flew as he stared at his wife in dawning horror._

_Merlin, for his part, merely grinned a sadistic little smile at the woman. “I never said you would be the_ **_only_ ** _one I was visiting.” He tilted his head curiously, all the while fucking into her husband. “Or did you think you were special or something?” He snickered and leaned over to speak throatily in Evan’s ear. “He’s_ **_much_ ** _tighter than you are, Imogen. He feels_ **_so_ ** _much better than you did.”_

_Imogen’s glare filled with hate, hate which she directed at her husband. A snarl escaped her lips as she hurried back down the ladder and stormed out of the barn’s door._

_Shocked horror and painful realization was clearly visible all over Evan’s face. He closed his eyes tightly and lowered his head._

_“You know, I think I might have believed in love once, when I was a very young child,” Merlin said conversationally as he angled his thrusts to be deeper. “But as I grew up I would overhear my peers in court talking about love, and I wanted to feel it too, but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. It was as impossible as giving someone untrained the lute or the lyre and telling them to immediately perform a masterpiece.” He chuckled darkly. “It tortured me for a while but I quickly realized something important, and I’m going to tell you what it is because you feel_ **_so_ ** _good.” He licked Evan’s ear, eliciting a groan from the strawberry blonde. “Love doesn’t exist, it’s a lie taught to you to keep you in little breeding pairs. It is meant to limit you, control you,_ **_subjugate_ ** _you.” He threw his head back in ecstasy. “Love doesn’t_ **_exist,_ ** _Evan. Only desire. Only pleasure.” He stopped pounding mercilessly and instead started to move sensually slow, clearly using his knowledge of the body, of pleasure, to his advantage. “And I will give you_ **_so_ ** _much pleasure while we’re staying in this village, Evan. By the time we leave you won’t remember that woman’s name.” He grinned. “What do you say to that? Would you like that or do you want me to leave so you can try and patch things up with the wife you adore so much?”_

_Despite his face still being buried into the floor, Evan answered quite obviously by parting his legs enough to hook his feet around Merlin’s calves._

_The sorcerer grinned darkly._

“This is one of my favorite ones, I replay it over and over again,” Simon chuckled, the sound heavy with arousal as he watched Merlin hungrily. “You can see it, can’t you? The incubus in him was _so present_ during this time.”

Arthur didn’t reply, an uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut. Merlin had told him once that he didn’t understand human feelings, had said that Arthur was the one teaching him about them, and while Arthur had understood it on some level he _really_ hadn’t understood what Merlin had been trying to tell him. And yet seeing this memory proved that Arthur really shouldn’t be so cocksure and arrogant when assuring Merlin he understood and wasn’t scared. He _didn’t_ understand. He _couldn’t_ understand. And that was because unlike Merlin, _he_ did not have a demonic side which warred for utter control.

Again, with a snap of those fingers, the change shifted dramatically.

_A younger Will sat straddled on Merlin’s lap facing the sorcerer, his head tilted back and his groans loud and needy. His knees and feet dug into the bed on either side of the sorcerer’s hips, helping him anchor himself as he lowered his body up and down Merlin’s cock. He rolled his hips from side to side, stretching himself on the rod fucking up inside of him. He gripped Merlin’s shoulders and leaned back as far as he could, changing the angle of penetration, and on Merlin’s next thrust his cock gave a tiny spurt of stickiness._

_Merlin’s magic worked around Will’s entrance impatiently, seeming to be slowly trying to pull the hole open apart wider. It had to be painful but from the way Will was thrusting and sobbing it was a welcomed pain. Of course, Will was Mercian, so that made sense._

_“_ **_Gods below_ ** _,” a throaty voice groaned from the corner, Sir Ethan sitting there, stroking himself as he watched. “What a beautiful sight you two are. We must make this more regular than we already do. I yearn for the sight.”_

_“Do you hear that, William?” Merlin chuckled darkly as he held Will by the hips, merely helping him keep his balance while the brunet did most of the luck. “Your whore of a master really_ **_enjoys_ ** _watching you go crazy on another man’s cock.”_

_“Whore, huh?” Sir Ethan chuckled as he rose and moved to them, reaching passed Merlin to grab his hair and ease his head back for arough kiss. “I do not think_ **_you_ ** _have a foot to stand on in that argument, Sorcerer.”_

_“Considering the invitations your ‘wife’ used to send to King Bayard requesting for me to stay over at your household for extended periods of time, Sir Ethan, I think I_ **_still_ ** _manage to have the moral high ground here.” Merlin reached out to stroke the man the way he knew he liked it. “And you’re also one of the only knights from_ **_that time_ ** _who is still here despite my…_ **_change_ ** _. So, again,_ **_whore_ ** _.”_

_Will sobbed and shifted to wrap his arms tightly around Merlin’s neck, hiding his face in that black hair. “Please,” he begged. “M-master, L-Lord M-Merlin, Master_ **_please!_ ** _”_

_Merlin grinned up at Sir Ethan. “I guess we’re_ **_all_ ** _whores.”_

_“Well, we_ **_are_ ** _Mercian” Sir Ethan growled in excitement and shoved Will, pushing him and Merlin down on the bed, crawling in after them as he knelt over Will and angled his cock at the same entrance Merlin was currently fucking into. Also, remember, Willyboy, he’s our brand new Grand Court Sorcerer, not the king’s ward anymore, his title’s changed.” When Will groaned an apology and shifted his hips he grinned. “Don’t worry, Willyboy, I’ll give you what you need.”_

_“_ **_Hurry!_ ** _” Will begged, the sound turning both pained and pleasured as his master slowly started pushing his way inside of the already full hole. “Oh_ **_godddssssssssss_ ** _!”_

_“_ **_Gods below_ ** _,” Sir Ethan groaned as he slowly continued to sink his way into the hole stretched by Merlin and by his magic. He pressed adoring kisses all over Will’s neck and shoulder as he eased himself further and further. “You like that, Willyboy? Are you happy now? Does this feel good?”_

_Will’s lips were parted in wordless sobs but he nodded enthusiastically._

_Merlin watched them with a strange look on his face, and when Sir Ethan eased Will’s face close enough to kiss him as he finally bottomed inside of him, Merlin looked troubled. The sorcerer glanced away, as if confused and disturbed by the sudden display of tenderness and regard from the older knight._

_“Can I move now?” Sir Ethan asked against those lips, and only when Will nodded rapidly once more did he do so._

_Will screamed out and shifted to hide his face in Merlin’s chest, the cock trapped between their bodies throbbing as both men began to move inside of him. His eyes were glazed, his breathing erratic as he found himself at the mercy of both men._

_Sir Ethan buried his teeth into Will’s shoulder as his thrusts began to get harder, faster._

_“H-harder!” Will begged. “P-please! Master!_ **_Harder_ ** _!”_

_“We really need to find a way to shut you up, William,” Merlin chuckled darkly while pressing toothy kisses to his neck. “Maybe I should invite the newcomer over one night so he can give your mouth something to do.”_

_Will let out a strangled, deep yowl and shifted in between them._

_Merlin laughed against his neck. “He sounds like he like the idea.”_

_“He does,” Sir Ethan agreed in a muffled yet amused tone. “Would you like that, Willyboy? Should we invite Lancelot over one night so he can give your lips something to wrap around?”_

_“Oh_ **_Master_ ** _…” Will was trembling. “_ **_Yes_ ** _please.”_

_Sharing a dark smile with Merlin, Sir Ethan reached for his pet’s face so as to bring Will to a kiss once more._

_Like before, Merlin watched them, confused frustration and longing on his face before he shook his head roughly and then bit hard into the base of Will’s neck._

Arthur was a conflicting mess of emotions, but shock was definitely at the forefront. He knew Sir Ethan and Will, he’d spoken to them, he’d gone through the ritual with them, and yet _never_ had he had the suspicion that there’d been something going on with Merlin - or that there’d ever been something, between the three of them. Just how many secrets was Merlin keeping from him?

“You cannot give that to him,” Simon declared bluntly. “You saw it, just like I did. He was jealous of their relationship, he _wanted_ a partner of his own who he could share in all of his desires and kinks. Merlin feeds best like this, with multiple people, his _enjoys_ it best. He told me so many times in Northumbria and it was why I made sure that we were even more decadent than normal while he was around. Because _this_ is what the demon in him craves.”

Despite opening his mouth to counter that, Arthur couldn’t find any words to do so.

“Not only can’t he feed like he used to, but you’ve made him _weak_ ,” Simon hissed in disgust. “He decimated Camelot because of his anger and his feeding, and yet now he cannot do the same. Now he is stressed and overworked and clearly close to snapping. And _that_ is _your_ fault.”

Again, Arthur opened his mouth to counter and yet he couldn’t find any words at all. _Was_ he making Merlin weak? Simon had a point. Merlin had _destroyed_ Camelot before. He’d decimated their armies with terrifying, godlike ease, and yet _now_ …

The blonde thought of the many nights Merlin had stayed awake, toiling over how to end the war. He’d done so while Arthur was his slave, and again _now_. The only time he hadn’t seemed to be like this was when Arthur had left. What if—-what if Simon _was right_? What if Arthur was to blame? What if—-?

Another snap of the finger. Another change of scenery. One he knew all too well and which caused a shiver to race down his spine as his own voice could be heard screaming.

_Merlin and King Bayard happened upon the scene looking incredibly shocked. All around them were screams and yells from the prisoners filling the prison cells to the brim, but the men weren’t yelling at the king and sorcerer, they were yelling at the five men viciously kicking and punching the young boy curled up in a ball on the floor. His clothes were torn, his body covered in ugly bruises forming which proved that this had been going on for a while._

_Valiant’s men grabbed the boy and forced him hands and legs spread, pinned to the floor, as Valiant positioned himself at the entrance, trying to force himself inside of the boy, who was clearly close to passing out from the terrible beating he’d suffered through yet fighting to stay awake, to fight the men holding him, the man trying to force his way._

_Merlin froze in horror, his heart clenched painfully, and for a second - a split second - the boy’s blue eyes met his. The sorcerer turned to the king, who was watching him, and gave him a silent nod._

_In seconds Merlin turned, his eyes flashing as, within seconds, Valiant and his crones went flying away from the boy with enough force to hit the wall. The boy looked around himself in confusion before his gaze shifted to meet Merlin’s seconds before he lost the fight and blacked out._

_“What do you think you are doing, Grand Court Sorcerer?” Valiant snarled._

_“Be silent, Valiant,” King Bayard snarled._

_Valiant, and his men, pulled back in shock._

_Merlin moved towards the boy and snarled at the state of his body. “Is_ **_this_ ** _how you try to show your superiority, Sir Valiant? By using five other men to gang up on one small boy? That is not superiority, that is is not a show of your strength, it is the work of a_ **_coward_ ** _.”_

_Valiant flinched back almost as much as he had at the king’s order to stand down. His eyes were wide as he looked between Bayard and Merlin, clearly shocked and confused before suddenly Merlin’s magic worked, lifting the boy’s body and settling them in the sorcerer’s arms. Valiant’s confusion slowly turned to dark unhappiness as he stared at the boy in the sorcerer’s eyes. “What do you think you are doing touching him, Grand Court Sorcerer? He will be dead soon anyway so why bother yourself with that little rat?” He snorted. “And to be honest, I thought you did not like to get yourself dirty.”_

_Merlin ignored him, gaze lowered on the boy’s bruised, battered, bloodied face and body. Confusion and anger played on his face yet he shook his head, as if to push the confusion away, and made his magic tilt the boy’s chin up, careful not to hurt him as he brought his lips softly, carefully to the blonde’s, letting his magic begin to fill the blonde and start healing him very slowly._

_Valiant hadn’t been lying. The blonde was very close to death from the savagery of the beating he’d sustained from men far too large and eager to rain their brutality on him. Bones were broken, skin torn, his entrance hadn’t been breached but it had begun to tear from the force of Valiant’s attack. The golden boy was barely clinging to life, his body bruised, his broken ribs piercing organs.His lips tasted of blood, and Merlin licked it with his tongue before taking the kiss deeper, forcing his magic harder, faster, wrapping itself quickly around the fading heartbeat, strengthening it before shooting out to repair organs and then begin on bones._

_Sweat dripped down Merlin’s forehead. He had never had healed someone before, not purposefully at least, and definitely not to this extent, especially not without having had a feast before. Quickly he could feel himself draining but he purposely pressed on, relying on his magic to keep the boy in his hands as he used on his hands to cup that battered cheek, filling him with more magic. He didn’t understand it, didn’t understand the need, the desperation clutching his stomach, filling him with nausea at the thought of his magic not being fast enough, not being_ **_enough_ ** _, to bring this boy back._

_Death was on the boy’s lips, that dark shroud Merlin had sensed far too many times clinging over them. It wasn’t enough. The boy was dying. He would be dead soon. Very soon. Cold fingers reached for the boy. Merlin tightened his grip around that frail body and snarled warningly, gold eyes flashing brighter than they ever had._

_Those cold fingers froze right before they could touch the boy’s skin._

_Merlin’s magic flared viciously, racing inside of the boy’s body in a visible golden glow that completely filled him, lighting him up like a candle. The sorcerer continued pushing even as his demon whimpered at the way he was depleting himself, but there was something in him that told him he would regret it if he didn’t save this boy, if he didn’t see those blue eyes again._

_“Court Sorcerer, what are you_ **_doing_ ** _?” Valiant snarled furiously._

_“_ ** _You_** _will remain_ ** _silent_** _if you know what is good for you_ , _Sir_ _Valiant,” Bayard warned him darkly._

_Valiant clenched his hands into fists and grit his teeth angrily, yet remained silent._

_His friends, who hadn’t dared open their mouths, were crowded behind him worriedly._

_The prisoners, who’d been screaming, now watched in worried silence._

_Spots were dancing in front of Merlin’s eyes as he forced more and more out of him, pushed even passed that line he’d never dared push again. His demon was whining, clawing, desperate. Merlin pushed on, unable to understand what he was doing or why he was risking himself for some unknown waif from Camelot, an enemy._

_Something odd happened inside of the boy, something Merlin had never felt before. It was as if something_ ** _clicked_** , _and Merlin felt his magic refusing to be forced inside of him anymore._

_Not only that, but those invisible, cold fingers withdrew._

_Whatever it was, whatever had happened, Merlin could feel, somehow knew, the boy was now out of harm’s way. That was why he allowed his magic to remain in his mouth. He was weak. Incredibly weak. The sorcerer swayed slight, only for some of the guards who had been accompanying them to catch him. The world was dizzy but when he felt someone trying to take the boy from him he held on stronger._

_“It is I, Merlin,” Bayard’s voice soothed him. “Give the boy to me. We will take him to Cassius so he may make sure that he his health has fully been restored.” It was then, and only then, that Merlin let the boy go and leaned more heavily into the arms of whoever was supporting his own weight._

_“But sire, that rat is from Camelot!” Sir Valiant snarled. “Just throw him in the prison cell with the rest of the vermin!”_

_“Sir Valiant, I believe your_ **_Mercian pride_ ** _has gotten the best of you,” King Bayard declared in a cold voice. “I believe your_ **_ardor_ ** _to show Mercia’s superiority is too fervent. You are being released from your duties in the dungeons, Sir Montague will be replacing you in these duties.”_

_Sir Valiant’s face went puce. “But My King—-!”_

_“_ **_I have spoken_ ** _,” King Bayard growled._

_Sir Valiant lowered his head, but not before great anger and hatred filled his expression. “Then, allow me to assist you taking the ra—-prisoner—-to Cassius. The Grand Court Sorcerer is barely able to keep his eyes open, you will have your hands full.”_

_Unwilling to stay with Valiant, Merlin used up the last of his strength to blink the king, the boy, and himself out of the dungeons and took them to infirmary._

_The last thing Merlin saw, before his knees buckled under him and his eyes rolled up in the back of his head, was Cassius’ worried face._

Arthur stared in horror. He had very vivid memories of this day, but it had been mostly of the vicious beating and the attempted rape which had not been able to fully go through due to Valiant’s sheer size making penetration nearly impossible. He’d remembered seeing Merlin and Bayard that day, and he’d had a vague memory of them saving him, but that had been it. He hadn’t seen the aftermath, hadn’t realized just how close he had been to death.

Had it not been for Merlin Arthur _would be dead_. Arthur _should_ be dead.

The thought was both terrifying, horrifying, and awe-inspiring. How had he not realized the magnitude of what had happened? When he’d awoken healed of his injuries he’d definitely assumed magic had been used, but he hadn’t realized the immensity - the _amount_ \- of magic which had had to have been used. Merlin had basically given him most of what he had - had used enough that he’d lost consciousness!

At that time Arthur hadn’t thought of any of these things, he’d just been scared, confused, and seeing the Mercians around him like extensions of Valiant. And then he’d been told he’d be given as a sex slave to one of them, and even if it had been his savior the boy had been terrified, refusing to allow himself to be hurt like he had at Valiant’s hands and orders. It was that fear, that desperation to protect himself, that had quickly shoved his healing and anything about it to the back of his mind.

“That was the turning point.” Simon sounded incredibly displeased. “I might not have access to all of his memories, but the ones I _do_ have all point to this point, to _you_ , being the start of Merlin’s downfall — it was from this moment that you made him weak.” He slammed his fist against the wall. “He was so weak from this that he spent the next few days feeding continuously from the prisoners from Camelot. At first he was too weak to move so they were brought in groups of five or six, and then, after a few days, he was able to actually go to the dungeons himself and fest there for the remaining days it took for him to not be so horribly weak.” Simon tilted his head. “The unexpected upside was, of course, that the prisoners were docile and more amenable afterwards. That, coupled with the fact that Sir Montague seems cut from a different cloth from Valiant, ultimately made the prisoners’ existence in the dungeons more bearable.”

Arthur had never realized any of this. To be quite honest, he knew he was a horrible, selfish monarch. During his slave-hood he’d been caught between his conflicting feelings - his overwhelming desire for Merlin despite the voice screaming in his head that he shouldn’t be so eager for the debased acts being ‘forced’ on him. He hadn’t thought about the prisoners or their plight once, and when he’d been ‘rescued’ but the prisoners left behind their fates hadn’t even crossed his mind until much longer. For the longest time he’d remained in his room, insane with grief, mourning Merlin’s death and nothing else.

It was only with the treaty that Camelot’s prisoners of war had been freed, and Arthur had realized just how unworthy he truly was to rule a kingdom. He’d forgotten about them, caught up in his own drama. It had been little comfort to realize his father too had seemed to have forgotten about the men being held prisoner in Mercia’s dungeons. 

“From the very start you have not been good for him,” Simon declared before flicking his wrist, causing the scenery to waver before being replaced with a new sight.

It was Merlin’s room, changed once more, but it was the way it had once been during Arthur’s days chained magically within. Arthur had never admitted how much seeing Merlin’s room changed upon his return had bothered him. A part of the prince had missed this familiar sight, had disliked the unexpected change. Seeing the room how it had once been made a small smile touch his lips in nostalgic longing.

Although, when he caught a glimpse of what this memory was, he figured his smile was a little inappropriate given everything.

_“Noooooooo…” Arthur was tense, fear emanating from his every pore. He was on his hands and knees, his hands clenching the wolf fur under him tightly, his face twisted tightly, his whole trembling. His breathing was rapid. He_ **_smelt_ ** _of terror._

_Merlin frowned from where he leaned over Arthur’s body from behind. He’d known it would be hard for the boy after what Valiant had put him through, that was why he hadn’t done anything these last couple of days since Bayard had surprised him by presenting him with the blonde as a sex slave. Arthur woke up screaming in the nights, this wasn’t something he needed, and yet when Bayard had commented earlier on whether his present should be exchanged for one more pleasing - a response to Merlin very obviously sleeping with others instead of Arthur - Merlin had known what the king was saying. If Merlin didn’t use Arthur for the purpose he’d been given to him for Bayard would either throw the boy back into the dungeon or give him to someone else, and either meant Merlin couldn’t make sure he was safe._

_He didn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend this intense need to protect the young knight. He’d have to hurt the boy to protect him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t conflicted._

_“I know you don’t want to do this,” Merlin admitted softly, trying to keep his words, his touches, soft, to try and calm the blonde. “But if I don’t do this the king will give you to someone else, maybe even Valiant.”_

_Arthur froze, tensing even more than he’d been before. “How would he even know?” The voice was strained, fearful. “If you tell him that you have—.”_

_“He’d know,” Merlin assured him, not wanting to tell Arthur how. Most people did not know the truth about Merlin’s Cambion side, it was to protect him, but he didn’t want Arthur to know because he was sure the boy would be terrified of him should he know about the demon inside of him._

_Arthur let out a sound, a terrified, impotent sound._

_It hurt something inside of him, and that scared him, as did the fact that demon was unusually dormant inside of him, allowing his human side complete control - coherence - for the first time since it had awoken in him. Merlin pushed the confusion warring inside of him as he used his position to slowly rub Arthur’s body. He tried to make the movements comforting, he_ **_did,_ ** _but the last time he’d had physical comfort it had been from Hunith. Merlin couldn’t quite remember how to do it, but he tried._

_Magic gathered around his fingers, warming Arthur everywhere he touched him. “I will not hurt you,” he promised against the back of Arthur’s neck, pressing soft, careful kisses there. He knew Arthur was flashing back to what Valiant had done to. him, Merlin knew that better than anyone else ever could, and maybe that explained his uncharacteristic care, softness._

_No matter the reason, he wanted to enjoy himself, to find pleasure with him._

_Whereas usually Merlin was merely interested in his own pleasure, and need to feed, when he slowly reached under the skirt and curled his warmed, magic-filled hands around Arthur’s cock, his own want was far from his mind. His wrist moved slowly, expertly, not too hard, not too fast, not too intense. Arthur shivered and whimpered as he gripped the wolf fur under his tighter, and yet he was starting to respond to the careful ministrations._

_Valiant had been relentless and violent, so Merlin forced himself to be the complete opposite. His magic kept him him place as one hand stroked Arthur, and the other caressed his chest, his stomach, his thighs._

_“J-just get it over and done with,” Arthur ordered, sounding like he was trying to be defiant and brave but was clearly scared. “I’m a knight of Camelot, I do not fear anything a Mercian can do to me.”_

_“We are not all Valiant,” Merlin assured him patiently, able to understand why Arthur would believe that. Given his youth he had most probably only just turned eighteen, which would mean that this was his first experiences in battle, and they had been horrible ones indeed. There was no blaming him for seeing all Mercians as worse than monsters._

_Instead of the kicks and punches, of the screams and slurs, Merlin and his magic bathed Arthur in open-mouthed kisses, in licks, his voice, his actions, soft, his words soothing encouragement. Slowly, very slowly, the tension start to seep out of Arthur’s body until he was not only gasping breathlessly, but was completely hard in Merlin’s hand. And then, and only then, did Merlin allow the arousal his Cambion easily induced rise up and cover the boy, who had already reached that on his own with Merlin’s ministrations alone._

_A jolt of something shuddered down Arthur’s spine as he suddenly let out a sound of shocked pleasure, his back curving inwards and his head thrown back in instinctive response. It was almost enough to snap Merlin’s self-control, but he continued teasing him until Arthur was dripping in his hand, and his trembles were not from fear anymore._

_“Arthur?” He whispered into the boy’s hair. “Can I enter you now?”_

_Arthur tensed somewhat but it wasn’t bad like it had been before. “You’re going to do it anyway. So why even ask?”_

_He let his magic warm against Arthur’s entrance, not touching, not caressing, but helping it relax. “I won’t enter you until you say I can.”_

_“_ **_Why_ ** _?” Arthur whispered in a confused, soft tone._

_Merlin answered honestly. “Because it’s the only bit of power I can give you in these circumstances.”_

_There was silence, and then a soft: “It hurt.”_

_“Valiant wanted to hurt you, Arthur, I don’t.”_

_“In Camelot, this is the worst degradation a man can suffer,” Arthur whimpered._

_“In Mercia it is the sweetest of pleasures,” Merlin promised him. “I won’t give you the pain, Arthur, I’ll give you the pleasure. You are in Mercia now, and you will not be degraded.”_

_Arthur’s breaths were heavy, his whole body shaking as he squirmed slightly. “Okay.”_

_“Okay?” Merlin waited for confirmation._

_“Okay.” Arthur visibly steeled himself. “You’re going to do it anyway so, just—-just do it.”_

_Even though he had permission Merlin did not enter him as yet, he continued to stroke, to kiss and caress, and only when Arthur slowly relaxed once more, disoriented with the pleasure, did Merlin use his distracted state to position himself behind him. He aligned his cock to that tight ring of nerves and, with a flash of golden eyes, buried himself inside of Arthur to the hilt._

_Surprise yelped its way out of Arthur’s lips, his eyes widening and lips parted, as he found himself completely filled by that cock. Confusion visibly battled with pleasure in those blue eyes as he subtly shifted his weight on his knees. It was clear he was astonished by the lack of pain, and disconcerted by the waves of pleasure the penetration had caused to ripple throughout his body._

_Arthur was not the only one surprised._

_Merlin knelt there, looming over Arthur, his body curved over his and cock inside of his body, and yet the sorcerer could not move. His eyes were wide, clearly in absolute shock, as pleasure coiled incredibly tightly in his core at the mere act of being inside of Arthur. Honestly, a part of him was absolutely terrified of moving, of feeling more, and yet a hunger that had nothing to do with feeding was slowly beginning to seep into him from where their bodies connected. The sorcerer gave an experimental thrust, and the moan that was torn from his mouth was identical from the one tumbling off of Arthur’s._

_It was out of fear and overwhelming caution that Merlin began to move, each thrust careful, the pace quickly turning torturous for the both of them. And then Merlin’s hips snapped into Arthur’s instinctively, rapidly, and before he could apologize Arthur had yowled and shifted, lowering his head to rest his cheek against the wolf fur, leaving his ass high up in the picture of sexual submission, of a mate begging for a rut. Something about that sight did something to Merlin that he’d never felt before. He didn’t think too much about it, couldn’t think too much about it, not since the sight made him snap and he started to thrust faster and faster into the boy’s body. He wasn’t even a quarter of the roughness he usually used, but he could feel shocking pleasure tingling up his body._

_He twisted his hand, which was still around that dripping cock._

_Arthur screamed as he came._

_Merlin gloried in the sound and rode him through the orgasm, marveling in the feel of that ass squeezing against him. The sorcerer had planned on doing this quick, on ending it after Arthur’s pleasure, but he couldn’t stop. This hunger was one he’d never known and it was ravenous, needing to elicit more and more of those delicious sounds Arthur made._

_He found himself relentless, moving inside of Arthur like some sort of starving beast, not satisfied when Arthur came the second, third, fourth time._

_Daylight slowly turned to nighttime, finding Merlin still inside of Arthur, who was visibly unfocused, his pupils blown with pleasure. He was covered in his own cum, with Merlin’s own seeping from his hole onto the bed. He was on his back this time, his fingers so deep into Merlin’s back the sorcerer’s pale skin was covered in claw marks. By now pleasure had taken over completely his hips were rolling furiously to meet the never-ending thrusts of the man nestled between his legs._

_“I’m going to cum inside of you again, Arthur,” Merlin warned and then groaned in pleasure when Arthur’s fingers dug instinctively deeper into his back._

_The sorcerer captured Arthur’s lips, kissing him, not seeing the shocked look that crossed over Arthur’s face, the widening of his eyes, before the boy’s eyes rolled in his sockets at the feeling of being filled once more._

_Merlin’s thrusts slowed yet didn’t stop, the sorcerer whispering against Arthur’s lips: “Does it hurt yet, Arthur?”_

_A blush of embarrassment colored Arthur’s cheeks, just like it had every time Merlin had asked this question, and despite knowing what it would mean, just like all the times before, he whispered back: “No.”_

_Grinning, Merlin captured his lips once more in a deep kiss as his thrusts picked back up._

_Groaning in embarrassed need, Arthur used his grip into Merlin’s back to pull him in closer._

Honestly, it had been Arthur’s own shameless, wanton behavior at an act that should have been shameful, which had caused the boy to try and kill Merlin later that night. But when the sleeping sorcerer’s magic had reacted, sending him flying against the wall, Merlin had shocked Arthur even more by racing towards him in worry, angry not about the murder attempt, but that Arthur had done something to get himself hurt.

It had been at that moment, as he’d stared in shock at the sorcerer fussing over him and frantically making sure Arthur hadn’t broken anything, that the blonde - who’d been staring up at him in wide eyed shock - had realized in horror that he did not hate this man while knowing that he should. And yet he couldn’t, and when, each night Merlin turned to him, Arthur had found himself having to control himself - to put up a front - so as not to reveal how eager he was to be used.

“I do not understand what sort of spell you’ve cast on him,” Simon admitted as the scene continued, with Merlin fucking a whimpering, desperate Arthur. “I have to admit, I was jealous, and then I saw this next part.”

Arthur turned to Simon in a confused frown as the world around them shattered, revealing the same room, but strangely Merlin was in bed alone. Why wasn’t Arthur there? Arthur had always been there.

_Merlin tossed and turned in bed, clearly having a terrible dream. His eyes were flashing gold beneath his eyelids, light them up with a circle of light as he groaned and shifted, kicked. Not only was his breathing erratic, but sobs escaped his lips._

_Suddenly Merlin’s eyes flew open and he shot up in bed with a screamed: “ARTHUR!”_

_The sorcerer breathed heavily, clearly terrified as he looked around the room as if searching for something, and then realization hit him that it had just been a dream. A memory. Arthur wasn’t here. Nimueh wasn’t here. That—that had happened weeks ago. Arthur—Arthur had tried to kill him weeks ago._

_Something in his clenched so painfully it was as if he couldn’t breath. During the days he could hate Arthur with a burning rage, but during nights, during dreams… Tears filled Merlin’s eyes as he gripped at his hair tightly, head power, shoulders slumped, a broken, ugly sound escaping his lips._

_How could he have been so stupid? So foolish? How could he have allowed himself to be so weak? To fall into Arthur’s trap? How could—how could—-?_

_He’d thought—-he’d thought maybe he could finally—that maybe Arthur might—but it’s all been a lie. He’d been a fool. How could_ **_anyone_ ** _care for someone like him?_

_He laughed, the sound dark and ugly and desperately as he covered his face with his hands. He laughed long and hard until it tapered off into a sob, and then, at the sound, he lost it._

_Merlin rose to his feet, eyes flashing violently as magic tore at everything in his room, the sorcerer screaming in blind rage as he physically tore the room apart while his magic decimated everything in the path until in the end the only left untouched in the broken inferno was his bed._

_The sorcerer stormed towards it and grabbed the wolf fur, about to rend it in half, when something flickered over his eyes as he brought it to his face and collapsed, weakly, onto the floor. Hiding his face in the material, Merlin broke down._

Tears dripped down Arthur’s face, blinding him momentarily to the terrible scene before him. Merlin had told him that he’d gone insane during their parting, but Arthur had never truly understood until he’d seen this - seen the destruction which had made the changes to Merlin’s room possible. A part of him had resented Merlin for being able to go on without him, for being able to hate him so easily, for taking lover after lover while Arthur had been losing his own mind and swimming in guilt in Camelot, and yet… and yet… 

He doubted Simon had shown him this for this reason… but seeing this made Arthur not only understand just how wrong he’d been to feel that way… but to see how his loss, how his perceived betrayal, had broken Merlin so incredibly was both terrifying and made him want to find Merlin immediately to hug him.

Clearly Simon did not want to dwell on this too long, so he snapped his fingers and changed the view.

_Merlin’s room now looked like it had before Arthur’s things had been moved into it. The only identical thing was the bed, which was very much occupied. Groans and grunts and pleads and moans and cries echoed throughout the room, bouncing off of the walls loudly, lustfully, a symphony of desire._

_In the middle of it all was Merlin, the center of attention of the three other males in the room._

_Daegal sat astride Merlin’s cock, a dark blush of pleasure spread over his pale face as he clung to Merlin’s shoulders as if it felt so good he was afraid he’d lose all strength and slip away if he didn’t hold on tightly. He pressed adoring kisses up and down Merlin’s chest, rocking himself on his cock and sobbing in desire._

_Another druid, one Arthur had seen around the castle - Irvyn - knelt naked on Merlin’s left, one hand biting and nibbling Merlin’s neck. His body trembled magic working on his cock, Merlin’s fingers between his parted thighs, his fingers deep inside of him, magic extending the reach of those fingers to pleasure the boy from within._

_To Merlin’s right, knelt Mordred. Unlike the way Merlin’s fingers entered Irvyn, Merlin’s hold was different, curving around Mordred’s buttocks to draw him in closer while those fingers tortured from within. While there might be others in the bed, Merlin’s attention, his lips, were solely on Mordred, kissing the boy hungrily, languidly while his fingers worked inside of him._

_“You’re_ **_hogging_ ** _him, Mordred,” Irvyn complained in a whine._

_Mordred’s answer was to wrap his arms around Merlin’s neck claimingly and swallow Merlin’s darkly amused chuckle as the sorcerer rewarded his possessiveness by rubbing that place inside of him that made Mordred scream._

Another snap of the finger. Another change of scenery. This was a room Arthur had never seen before but given all the blue it was definitely in the Mercian castle, and from the quality of the room it belonged to someone relatively high in Court. Arthur hoped to all heaven this wasn’t another view of Mordred and Merlin’s far-too-close relationship.

And then Arthur turned and saw it, and he wished with all his might that he’d told Simon to fuck off and not show him anything.

_Valiant was reclined back on a sturdy yet plush lounge chair situated in front of, and very deliberately facing, a long mirror. He was completely naked, bronzed from the sun and covered in scars and muscles, which contrasted visibly against the pale, lithe body against his. Merlin sat straddled on his lap, facing him, his body not small on its own but looked tiny compared to the monster of a man._

_While that was was lax in pleasure, Valiant’s dark eyes were fixed on the mirror, watching himself. He had Merlin’s arms crossed behind his back, Valiant somehow managing to hold a tight grip of his hands, keeping Merlin’s arms crossed, while simultaneously using his grip to shove Merlin roughly forwards by his asscheeks, let the sorcerer’s body sag backwards, and then shove him roughly forwards once more with those hands, keeping him simultaneously immobile while fucking him._

_“You look so good on my cock, Grand Court Sorcerer,” Valiant groaned as he fixedly stared at the place where his cock penetrated the smaller man. “I’ve always heard the older knights talking fondly about the past, and I knew, I_ **_knew_ ** _, I’d be the one to remind you of your true place.” He closed his eyes and threw his head back. “I do not know what I love more, the feeling of being inside of you, or feeling my cock pressing completely against your stomach the closer I hold you.” He then chuckled at the silence. “Are you still pouting?”_

_“You said you wouldn’t interfere.” Merlin’s voice was strained. “You said—.”_

_“I_ **_also_ ** _said I had priority over all of your holes,” Valiant interrupted with a snort. “And anyway, let’s not pretend that that twinky little blonde Mercian could make you feel good like I am right now. If you need to feed, you should feed from the best Mercia has to offer. I have_ **_more_ ** _than enough darkness and desire to keep even a whore like you sated.”_

_“If you break our deal—-,” Merlin hissed._

_Valiant snorted, clearly amused by something. “I haven’t even_ **_looked_ ** _at Arthur much less tried to approach him, I have been behaving myself like a man of my word. Don’t you think that should be rewarded, Grand Court Sorcerer?” He finally let go of Merlin’s hands to fully, painfully, dig his fingers into his ass cheeks. “I think I’ve been exemplarily behaved, all things considered, and I think that deserves something more.”_

_“What more could you possibly want?” Merlin growled into his neck. “You have your cock inside me right now. You said you wouldn’t expect me to just service your needs but any time I am not around Bayard you pull me into the closest room and shove this monster inside of me and won’t stop fucking until I’m so exhausted I collapse. And even then I’ve woken up hours later and you’re still fucking me. So what more could you possibly think you’ll get out of this, you animal?”_

_Valiant grinned. “It_ **_is_ ** _a monster.”_

_“I wasn’t complimenting you, Valiant.”_

_Clearly not believing that, Valiant grinned even wider. “I think I deserve a kiss.”_

_Merlin froze. “No.”_

_Valiant’s grin disappeared in a second as his grip turned punishing. “I’m sure Prince Arthur would taste sweet, he probably gives the best of kisses.” He turned to hiss in Merlin’s ear. “Maybe I should see for myself the next time he’s doing one of his patrols all alone in the dark.”_

_A snarl escaped Merlin’s throat as he leaned back enough to glare at Valiant. “You touch him and this is over. You won’t have anyone able to take your size again and you’ll be stuck with your hand or whatever the hell you were using before.” He glared viciously at him. “I might not be able to hurt you, Valiant, but you_ **_will_ ** _suffer if you even breathe in Arthur’s general direction.”_

_“You’re so_ **_jealous_ ** _, it’s like being with a woman,” Valiant tutted mockingly. “And I see your point.” He then slowly grinned darkly, savagely. “But I have no say in whatever my friends my do to him, things that could never be traced back to me.”_

_A muscle jumped in Merlin’s cheek as he grit his teeth. “You just want a kiss?”_

_“I_ **_did_ ** _, but then you pissed me off,” Valiant replied bluntly. “So_ **_now_ ** _what I want is for you to be a good little whore and show some appreciation for the sacrifice I am making. I want you to—-.”_

_Very clearly in an effort to avoid whatever Valiant had just come up with, Merlin wrapped his arms around the knight’s burly neck and kissed him. The action caught Valiant off-guard, the knight’s eyes going impossibly wide before Merlin angled his head and began to kiss him deeper, with tongue, as he shifted in Valiants lap to sit with his legs curled around his back._

_The moment Merlin started rolling his hips Valiant sobbed into his mouth with a pathetic sound. One huge hand pressed against Merlin’s back, keeping him pinned against his body, while the other caressed Merlin’s ass while pushing that ass as tightly against his body as possible so that when Valiant’s hips rocked up to bury deeper into the sorcerer he was able to spear him to the hilt._

_When Merlin groaned into his mouth, Valiant consumed the sound hungrily, that sound seeming to light a fire in him as he began to fuck ruthlessly into that pale body before spilling deep inside of it, his arms wrapping around so tightly it was obviously hard for Merlin to breaths, his breathes strained._

_Valiant finally relaxed against the lounge chair with a grin which only grew larger when Merlin tried to slip away. The man shoved Merlin back so he fell hard on the lounge chair, and then Valiant was on top of him, inside of him, and kissing him once more._

_Resignation flittered over Merlin’s features, and when Valiant slapped his hand harshly against his thigh in obvious command, he wrapped his legs around the knight._

“Enough.” Arthur turned his back on it, unable to see anymore, the anger and disgust welling inside of him. He could hear the grunts and whimpers escaping Merlin’s mouth as Valiant used his size and weight to ram himself inside of the smaller body even harder than before. “STOP IT!” 

“ _You_ did that,” Simon hissed in his ear.

He opened his mouth but there was no defense to any of it because _it was the truth_. Instead, he forced his voice as normal as possible as he asked: “Why did you show me those things?”

“I wonder,” Simon chuckled before he glanced back to Valiant. “Does Mercia realize how much of a problem that man could be? Now that the king has died it is obvious that he believes he has more power than he truly has. That can be a very dangerous thing, especially when he realizes that the Queen isn't a fragile female he can "counsel"."

"We have eyes on Lord Valiant, we don't need a  _stranger_  coming into our midst and telling us how things are and what should be done." Arthur's voice was curt, trying to ignore the sounds of the memory Simon would not dispel as yet. "Worry about your own men and leave ours alone."

Simon gave a little dark chuckle. "Are we talking about Lord Valiant still or are we talking about  _Merlin_?"

"Both." Arthur steeled himself against the memory playing behind him, realizing that Simon was leaving that specific one still playing to mess with him and put him on edge. "I know that you and Merlin were lovers while he was in Northumbria, but that was a long time ago, and pursuing him would be a waste of all of our time as he’s _mine_ now."

"I had heard. You've stolen him from your younger brother during Mordred's heroic absence trying to round of druids to help save  _your_  kingdom. Let me tell you, that underhanded way of conduct betrays just  _how long_  you've been subjected to Mercians and their way of thinking, of behaving. Especially considering that you have taken to wearing Mercian blue I have to admit that you seem more and more Mercian than someone from Camelot." Simon tilted his head to the side. "On another note, I find it quite amusing that while you assure me that it is a waste of time for me to pursue Merlin… you still take the time to warn me against it. I believe you realize, just as I do, that despite all your posturing you truly are not a threat. What you have with Merlin is only a temporary arrangement."

"That's a lie." Arthur glared. "He  _loves_  me."

"I know." Simon visibly shocked Arthur with that revelation. "Thesememories, couple with my time in Mercia make me realize that he loves you the only way he can, and I do respect that to some degree. I have never seen him this way with another. I truly believe you're the only person he's ever loved, maybe you will be the only person he ever  _will_  love."

Confusion and wariness filled Arthur because this was definitely too good to be true. Simon was playing, but what game?

"But just as I can see that you love each other, I can see that it will not last,” Simon declared without any malice, if anything, with some pity. "To be completely frank with you I desire to return to Merlin's good favors, I've been with many and yet none have ever made me feel the way I did under him, and while he loves you I do not see you as a threat. If anything, I find Mordred a more viable one."

Arthur was taken aback with such stark honesty, as well as with growing confusion.

“You are no threat to me because of how much you love Merlin." Simon took a step closer to him. "We both know about Merlin, or at least we both suspect it. The truth about him. And thus we both know what he needs. But you, you're not willing to share any little bit of him. You're a greedy little prince who wants his sorcerer all to his own. That's why your relationship annoys me, but doesn’t worry me. It will crumble on its own." Simon sighed. "He loves you, but he can't fight his nature, and you will  _never_  be able to give him what  _he_  needs. What he  _really_  needs."

"And what would that be?" Arthur's voice was strained.

"Freedom to do what he must, what his instincts dictate, what his power  _demands_." Simon's voice lowered as he circled slowly around Arthur. "Did you know that King Bayard took Merlin away from Northumbria sooner than expected because he was worried he was losing him to me?" His lips twitched when he noticed Arthur's eyes widen slightly. "And do you know  _why_  Bayard was so worried? Because Northumbria, because  _I_ , fit well with Merlin's appetites. Because Merlin stopped leaving my chambers, took women and men, right in front of me,  _along_  with me, before pushing me down and taking  _me_." Simon's lips curved in a smile at the memory. "I want Merlin for myself, just as you do, but I'm  _willing_  to share him to keep him. So is your brother. But you  _are not_. You want him all for yourself, only for yourself, and while Merlin seems willing to try this monogamous farce, willing to try please you, to be faithful due to his love for you-his instincts, his  _nature_ , will win out in the end. You must have seen the state he was in when he left my room that first night. That goes to prove that no matter how much he loves you, his instincts are still very much a strong part of his being."

Silence filled the air as Arthur merely stared at Simon with anger and another emotion he refused to acknowledge, especially not in front of the king.

"You might somehow be able to  _sate_  his hunger all on your own, but what about his  _desires_? His kinkiest of kinky ones?" Simon leaned in closer. "You may sate hunger itself, but you'll bore him after a while. He'll fight it because he loves you, and for a while you'll trick yourself into believing nothing is wrong, but in the end the both of you will be hurt. You'll hurt each other without wanting to, you just won't have another choice." Simon's voice lowered. "You'll love each other until you  _hate_  the other, because you'll always know deep inside that he's denying his every impulse just for you, and he'll know deep inside that he could be enjoying so much more than what you're willing to offer."

Arthur's gaze was on Simon, hard, though his voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke. "I did not realize you could see into the future, King Simon."

Simon chuckled, pulling away, eyeing Arthur with a smirk. "I'm merely pointing out what everyone knows. I am trying to save the both of you before you destroy each other."

"Such kindness is touching." Arthur knew his voice said otherwise as he fixed his rival with a narrowed stare. "But I will repeat what I told you before. Worry about your own men, and forget about  _ours_." And with that Arthur walked away, trying his best not to reveal that those visions, coupled with Simon’ words, had gotten to him, and a very tiny part of him was terrified.

“I won’t have to wait long, anyway,” Simon’s voice trailed in dark amusement behind him. “Clearly Merlin is already tiring of you. Why _else_ would he be trying to secure your rule after Mercia no longer has need for it?”

Arthur froze, that terror starting to grow in his stomach, which was why he couldn’t face Simon. 

“I overheard some of your men talking about it, how Camelot would remain independent with you on the throne, how Merlin had assured them it was possible.” Simon chuckled. “Honestly, Arthur, it would be like Merlin to make sure you weresettled and provided for, wouldn’t it? Especially if he were to leave you. Much like, what I’ve heard whispered, he helped Bayard do for his manservant.”

Arthur breathed rapidly, erratically. That was a _lie_. That _had_ to be a lie!

“We both know Camelot is not the place for Merlin, and he knows it best of all,” Simon singsonged. “So, if he is preparing a place for you there, clearly, Arthur, you have already lost.”

And with that, and a dark chuckle, King Simon walked away leisurely in the opposite direction, leaving Arthur a frozen heap of mounting terror. 


	4. Chapter 4

"To be truthful, I am not surprised to hear this anonymous report on Lord Valiant,” Lancelot admitted tiredly as he sat by the table in Merlin's tower, having been summoned by the sorcerer to talk about what he'd heard the day before. "I too have been approached by our most loyal of knights concerning certain comments he has made. Mostly they were spoken while he was inebriated and in one of his legendary rants, and yet lately they seem to have escalated. I myself overheard him the other day and I feel that it is truly starting to get out of hand." Lancelot eyed Merlin severely. "He feels his kinship to the late king gives him some sort of  _right_  to the throne, or to some control over the Queen at least."

"He obviously does not know Morgana if he thinks he can control her." Merlin sneered at the very thought.

"But once he realizes that he cannot control her, I am worried he might want to control the throne in another way." Lancelot took in a deep breath. "Should the Queen pass away with child he might try to contend a right to the throne. Or he could just as easily wait for the child to be born, have the Queen die from her 'weakness', and declare that he is the only one with the right to not only raise the child, but assume power until the heir comes of age."

"You think he's the traitor." Merlin read between the lines.

"I think he has  _motive_." Lancelot sidestepped.

"He's also a very  _obvious_  traitor." Merlin frowned, not dismissing the potential of this theory and yet not dismissing any other either. "He might not be the traitor, just another person who wishes the throne for himself, with no connection to Aurelius Ambrosius or his sorcerer."

"True." Lancelot sighed. "We live in harrowing times my friend."

A knock sounded on the door.

Merlin turned towards it, his magic seeking the one on the other side, identifying it as the sorcerer sighed. "It is King Simon."

Lancelot stood immediately. "We shall return to our conversation at a later date."

Merlin nodded, turning his gaze towards the door, which opened on its own, showing Simon in the doorway.

"King Simon." Lancelot bowed before nodding to Merlin and leaving.

Entering the room, Simon eyed Lancelot with male appreciation in his eyes before closing the door behind him. "I hear he's supposed to be monogamous with the Court Physician."

"He is,” Merlin assured despite the fact that that was not entirely true, but knowing Cassius would want him to do so.

“I see, interesting,” Simon mumbled before his gaze finally turned on Merlin. "What is it with the Mercian men suddenly deciding on monogamy?" He raised an eyebrow. "From what I remember from your time in Northumbria, you told me that couples allowed indiscretions here just as happily as they do in Northumbria."

"Generally they do." Merlin watched the young king observe the tower. "Very few are truly monogamous. Take Lancelot and Cassius, they are monogamous in the sense that if they do have fun with someone else, they do so  _together_ , never has the other had sex with another person without the other's knowledge and presence.”

"I see,” Simon repeated as he approached Merlin's lounge chair, eyeing it before turning towards the sorcerer. "Would that be the type of arrangement you and Arthur have?"

"No." Merlin shook his head, folding his arms over his chest, knowing that Simon had known the answer before asking. "Arthur doesn't believe in sharing me."

"Possessive little puppy, isn't he?" Simon chuckled darkly before throwing himself down on the fur-lined lounge chair with a smirk.

"I find it amusing you refer to him that way given the fact that you're the same age."

"You know, I never liked Arthur. He always seemed so…prudish." Simon made a face, seeming far too comfortable as he stretched like a cat. "Do you know when he and his father came to Northumbria to court our favor in the war he not only wouldn't have any fun, but he told us it was  _immoral_? Immoral!" Simon rolled his eyes. "This coming from the guy whose father was married and yet didn't find it  _immoral_  to sleep with anyone he wanted during that marriage-fathering  _children_!"

"I did not realize you were so highly offended by Arthur's comments." Merlin drew closer instinctively, having always found Simon’s tantrums entertaining.

"He's judgmental, the whole of Camelot are." Simon raised an eyebrow from where he lay on his back with his hands pillowed behind his head. "Did they not find his taking your cock up his ass immoral?"

"I'm sure they did,” Merlin admitted yet didn’t comment on the strange conversation he’d had with Leon in regards to Camelot’s very twisted standards.

"Camelot: The only place in Albion where everything fun is immoral, condemned, and then secretly committed by those who condemn it." Simon rolled his eyes. "I'd say: let Aurelius Ambrosius have it if he wants it so badly-but since Mercia is tied in with this-since  _you_  are-I will help that boy get back the throne he shouldn't have lost in the first place." Simon didn't seem too pleased about it. "And then you and I will go to Northumbria while Arthur tends to his people and the remains of his kingdom." Simon's dark eyes rose to Merlin. "Has he realized that yet? That he's going to lose you?"

Merlin eyed the young king thoughtfully at this assumption. "Who says he will?"

"It will take years for him to rebuild Camelot once he recaptures it, and it will take you just as long to help us with the Morrigan Tribulation if things go south. Years." Simon smirked. "Can you handle years of hunger, Merlin? Even for your little prince?"

"I would try.” While that was true, Merlin didn’t quite _plan_ on going without. Honestly, once they owned Camelot he could do most of the work from Mercia, and while he _would_ have to do some of the spells in Northumbria given the curse was tied to the actual kingdom, he did not exactly plan on going there without Arthur. Even if Arthur kicked and screamed about wanting to rebuild Camelot, the blonde would just have to wait for as long as it took for Merlin to make sure Bayard’s heir, and Simon, were no longer cursed.

Honestly, this brought up so many questions. Merlin was uneasy with the topic of Camelot’s future if he was being honest. While Camelot seemed willing now who knew how long it would take for them to rebel against such an extreme regime change? Also, Merlin could not see himself enjoying life in Camelot. And yet, for everyone’s best, it was seeming more and more necessary for Arthur to assume the throne - something he had never necessarily said out loud that he wanted, but Merlin knew the boy had been trained his whole life for this, and a part of Arthur would feel cheated if he didn’t experience his birthright.

And yet…

The thought of sharing Arthur with a whole kingdom was disheartening and frustrating. Merlin was only barely able to handle Arthur spending time away from him for his swain and knight duties. If Arthur were the king of a realm Merlin might never actually get any of his attention, and already he could feel the demon pacing inside of him at the very thought.

Simon sighed, raising from the lounge chair. "You would fail and you know it." He moved towards Merlin, stopping before him, reaching out to trail his hand down Merlin's chest. "You know as well as I do that no matter how hard you'll try, in the end you'll find yourself in my chambers, in my bed…" he leaned forwards, whispering softly in Merlin's ear. "…in  _me_."

"You are overconfident as always, Simon." Merlin placed his hands on Simon's shoulders, separating him from him gently before letting his hands fall to his sides. "It was always one of your charms."

"Only one of them," Simon reminded playfully before shaking his head and sighing, concern covering his features. "Merlin, he's going to have to rebuild his kingdom, he's not going to have time for you, he's going to need his every energy, his every thought, to be on that." Simon shook his head. "And once he's managed to return Camelot to a viable kingdom he's going to need a Queen."

Merlin clenched his fists. That was yet another thing he had not wanted to think. Camelot erroneously thought he could help Arthur have a child, but once they realized that was not the case the idea of an heir would come up once more, and while they’d said they’d accepted having a royal niece or nephew assume the throne, their actions spoke otherwise. ”I do not see how-."

"Yes, you do,” Simon responded softly and surprisingly sympathetically. "If you truly care for Arthur then you'll let him live a normal Camelot life and not disrupt his people. You said it yourself, Camelot is completely different from us, their values, their lifestyles their customs-everything. His kingdom will still be so new, so fragile, and a scandal like their king taking it up the ass by a  _Mercian_  no less…" Simon took in a deep breath. "His people might think less of him. Because of you. And that will be the time when he needs his people and their support the most."

Merlin folded his arms over his chest, looking away.

"He'll also need an heir, need many children so that the Pendragon name doesn't die-so that his father's dynasty lives on long after he's dead,” Simon declared in a wise tone Merlin hadn't known he'd had. "You and your monogamous relationship would be a hindrance to that."

"Whereas a relationship with you would not be a problem to your people or a hindrance to your reign as king." Merlin could see where this was going.

"Obviously," Simon chuckled good-naturedly. "My people already know I like a cock just as much as a cunt, it makes them like me even more because they have the hope that one day I might fuck them."

Merlin shook his head at the young king, who truly hadn't changed  _at all_.

"But all joking aside, Merlin, you know I speak the truth." Simon sighed, beginning to back away towards the stairs. "I will never speak to you about this again, but you know that I am right. You will not be able to get my words out of your mind because you care for Arthur, and despite how much you want him, you will come to see more and more that everything I said is the truth. The best thing for  _him_  is, when the war is over, to go back to Camelot and for you to sever your romantic relationship."

Merlin didn't speak, merely clenched his fists tighter as King Simon hurried down the steps and was soon gone. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Merlin groaned, throwing himself down on the bed, Simon's words ringing in his ears.

* * *

 

“Shouldn’t you be training the knights?” It wasn’t that Merlin was annoyed at having Arthur around so much all of a sudden, but it had been two days now that the blonde had become his faithful companion, and he did not understand exactly why that was. He enjoyed the company, but he knew that there was a lot more interesting things the boy could be doing since Merlin half ignored him while working on crafting the rituals.

“Does my presence bother you, Merlin?” Arthur asked in that oddly soft tone he’d been using lately.

“Of course not,” Merlin chuckled at the foolishness of the question as he returned his attention to the ball of energy he was tried to weave into the newest spell needed. “I just figured you might be bored. Plus, I don’t want anyone thinking that you’re shirking your duties because of me.”

“The only duty I have is to _you_ ,” Arthur replied, still in that oddly soft tone. “Anything else I do is a _favor_.”

“Still, you clearly enjoy the training, and it would do you good to keep from getting rusty.” He frowned when part of the spell wanted to deform, shift, instead he pulled it in tighter, weaving the strand of flickering gold back into place.

“And why would I want that?” Arthur’s voice was monotone all of a sudden. “I will be your consort, not a king.”

Did that—-did that bother Arthur? Merlin nearly lost his concentration yet forced himself to focus on the visible spell being formed between his hands. Each strand took all his concentration to weave in the pattern he needed, each one tiny and intricate. Bayard had said to go as far as he could without sending the men insane, and Merlin was terrified he wasn’t quite sure where that boundary lay.

The unexpected warmth at his back made him jump, made him nearly implode the spell, but he somehow salvaged it in time to glance down to see Arthur’s arms around him from behind, buried inside his trousers, tenting the material as he stroked Merlin languidly.

The sorcerer’s eyes closed in surprised pleasure before he cleared his throat and returned to the task at hand. While each stroke was distracting, Arthur’s arousal fueled Merlin, and he found himself more easily crafting the complex spell in his hand. It was shocking, really, how much easier the tiny strands were obeying his will and shifting into place. And then Arthur removed his hands, and then was in front of Merlin, on his hands and knees, and his mouth—-.

Merlin’s lips parted in a pleased groan as he glanced down to find the boy’s head bobbing, one hand around the base of Merlin’s shaft, and the other fondling his balls. He wanted to reach down and caress that hair but he had a job to do, and like before, Merlin’s ability seemed to increase even more, the strands forming patterns much quicker now, shifting into place.

A knock sounded at the door.

Immediately Arthur slipped Merlin’s cock out of his mouth, shocking the sorcerer as he yelled: “Come in!” only to then return his attention to that cock, kissing and sucking it before taking it back into his mouth.

Honestly, Merlin had no idea what was going on but his demon was enjoying all of this attention. But then his magic sensed who was on the other side of the door, who was coming up the steps, and he tried to shove Arthur’s head back, only to blink when Arthur gripped him by the hips stubbornly. “ _Valiant_ _is coming_!” He hissed to Arthur.

The blonde froze for a second, looked up at Merlin through his eyelashes, and then got a mesmerizingly furious look on face his. His grip clenched tightly around Merlin’s hips before he returned to worshipping Merlin’s cock with even more determination.

A part of Merlin was fascinated by this strange turn of events, while the other was terrified and protective. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was tempt Valiant with a view of Arthur doing something for Merlin Valiant most probably wanted the blonde to do to himself. That was why, while he’d like nothing better than to leave Arthur there, Merlin magicked him away to the safety of their bedroom, and then magicked his own trousers up, seconds before Valiant came into view.

The man paused on the last step and glanced around, eyebrow raised. “I thought I heard the boy.”

“Is there something you need, Lord Valiant?” Merlin kept his gaze on the spell being weaved physically between his hands. “Daegal is not with me, if that’s why you’re here.” He then frowned and looked up in dark suspicion. “Unless you’ve kept him from coming here despite the magic weaning and _that_ is why you are here?”

“You are too suspicious, Grand Court Sorcerer,” Valiant snorted in dark amusement. “I am merely here to check on your health.”

Right. Like he was going to believe that one. The man was here for something, but _what_? And did this have anything to do with the rumors Joffrey had brought Merlin, as well as the ones that Lancelot himself had heard?

“Although… should I even be calling you Grand Court Sorcerer?” Valiant tilted his head to the side as he eyed Merlin. “Considering Bayard is dead, and you have not renewed any vows to the reigning monarch, that actually means you are not _technically_ Mercia’s sorcerer anymore.”

That was true, and the fact that Valiant had been thinking about it made him very uncomfortable, but Merlin refused to show that as he instead huffed in annoyance and returned his attention to crafting the spell.

“Is that it?” Valiant asked oddly, coming closer to eye the golden weaved design. “Is that the spell that Bayard commissioned before his death? The one that will bring out our full potential?”

“You could put it that way, yes.” Merlin kept his eyes on the thing, ignoring Valiant as he came to stand uncomfortably close to him. “It should be ready after the dark moon has passed.”

A chuckle escaped Valiant’s lips. “Yes, I had wondered whether you would wait until after it had passed. It would probably be too much to handle all at once.” He reached out and trailed a rough finger up the side of Merlin’s neck. “Have you warned Arthur about what happens in the castle during the dark moon?”

Merlin’s magic swatted Valiant’s hand away so hard there was a resounding **THWACK** , and a red print on his hand, which he was shaking through his laughter. The sorcerer turned an annoyed glare at him. “Honestly, Lord Valiant, you yourself just pointed out that I am not obligated _not_ to kill you anymore. So _why_ the _hell_ do you keep provoking me?”

Valiant looked surprised at the question. “Because it’s fun!”

Letting out an aggravated growl, Merlin returned his attention to the spell, feeling it _so close_ to ready he was shocked. 

“But talking seriously, Lord Merlin,” Valiant murmured, using the title that hadn’t been used since Merlin had stopped being King Bayard’s ward. “I think it is a security breach to allow a sorcerer who is not aligned by oath to the throne such full access like the one you have. I think that makes you dangerous.”

“To _who_ exactly?” Merlin wanted to know, the very last strings of magic shifting into place. “Because, if I’m going to be completely honest with you, Lord Valiant, you’re the only one I would really fancy hurting.”

“You’d be a threat to the kingdom of course, to the Queen, to the heir,” Valiant replied suavely, not appearing to take his other words into consideration at all. “There’s also your relationship with the heir to a different throne to consider.” He grinned, it was all teeth. “It might make certain people… worried… about who your actual alliance is to. There might be those who will question how it will be in Mercia’s interest for you to continue your _Attempt_ with him.” That grin was all sorts of threatening. “There are those who are saying, to prove to the Court that neither of you are threats, you should _end_ the Attempt and instead align yourselves to Mercians whose loyalty to the monarchy is _not_ in question.”

_So that leaves_ ** _you_** _out, huh_?

Instead of rising to the bait, Merlin concentrated on the last string of magic to cement, the spell finally, _finally_ , complete and throbbing as if with a heartbeat between his hands. Once the spell was complete, Merlin brought his hands together rapidly, infusing the spell into his own body and letting a wave of pleasure race down his spine before he finally turned to Valiant, far too pleased about having completed _one_ of the many things on his list to really let the man’s taunts and barbs get to him.

“Lord Valiant, I have a question.”

Clearly realizing Merlin was going to piss him off somehow, Valiant raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Okay, I’ll bite. What question do you have?”

“Do you _want_ to die?” Merlin tilted his head curiously as he eyed the much larger man. “Because it seems as if you do.”

Valiant laughed. “Does it, now?”

“Yes, you purposely provoke me, despite knowing I do not have to keep you alive anymore.” Merlin smiled up at him, knowing it would make him furious. “One has to wonder whether you are doing that because you _want_ to die.”

“Nonsense, I merely like to see it as living on the edge,” Valiant assured him before his grin disappeared and he looked uncharacteristically grave. “However, I suppose I _did_ get sidetracked from the reason I came to see you.” He looked clearly uneasy and unhappy about being here, which made Merlin more alert immediately. “I think my manservant may have been murdered.”

“ _Malcolm_?” Merlin asked in surprise, having forgotten about the boy’s untimely death due to all that had been happening. “Why would you think that?”

There was clear hesitation before Valiant reached into his robes’ inner pockets and pulled out something, which he handed to Merlin. “I was going through the things in his quarters as it adjourns mine and I was considering moving Daegal in there so I won’t have to go looking for his skinny ass in the middle of the night.” Valiant made a face as he stared at the thing in Merlin’s hand. “I may not be versed in magic like you, Lord Merlin, but that looks a lot a like a hex bag.”

It _was_. Merlin’s magic covered it, nullifying the curse held within. “Where was this?”

“Under the bed. I only found it because I kicked the bed to see how much abuse it could handle, and that fell from wherever it was being hidden and hit the ground.” Valiant’s eyes were dark, dangerous, clearly furious at this discovery and what it meant. “Someone _dared_ leave me without a manservant, and in such a suspicious way that none would become my new one!” It was clear this annoyed him more than the actual death. “Not only that, but had I not been - in meeting - with you and the king the night he died… people think I killed him even with you and King Bayard to back the claims of where I was when he died.”

Merlin looked up at Valiant. “You think you are being set up.”

Rapid footsteps could suddenly be heard hurrying up the stairs, and in record time Arthur was back up there, face red and breath escaping his lips erratically, proving he’d run here all the way from the chambers. His eyes narrowed on Lord Valiant before going between him and Merlin, warning deep in those blues.

Valiant raised an eye at Arthur before turning to Merlin. “It would make sense, if you think about it. Escetia lost all its royals, and there’s already a target on our queen, after her there’s only me with an actual blood claim to the throne. It would be a very underhanded way to get me out of the way without making it obvious that it was a play for the throne.” He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a very _Mercian_ move.”

Merlin agreed, closing his fist tightly against the pouch and turning to Arthur, who looked less angry and more wary. “Lord Valiant believes someone murdered his manservant Malcolm in an attempt to frame him for the death.” He motioned to the bag in his hand. “This is a hex bag he found under Malcolm’s bed.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in sudden understanding, some of his tension visibly leaving his body as he snorted. “If we made a list of people who have reasons to want him dead it would be _endless_.”

Valiant narrowed his eyes and pointed a large, meaty finger at Arthur. “And you are at the _top_ of that list, so you should not even be here.”

“I wouldn’t save your life if I had the option,” Arthur told him point-blank, a dark look on his face. “But I wouldn’t waste any of my time on you, even if it meant not having to see your ogre-face around the castle.” He scoffed as he eyed the hex bag in distaste. “I definitely wouldn’t use something like magic either. If I kill you, Lord Valiant, it will be with a blade to your gut. You’ll definitely see it coming and know that is it me.”

Merlin was caught between wanting to groan in disbelief at that clear provocation, and wanting to cheer Arthur on. Either way, he glanced between Valiant and Arthur worriedly, realizing both of them were unpredictable and absolute spitfires, which meant either one of them could launch at the other and Merlin had to be ready for that so he could magic them apart.

A muscle jumped in Valiant’s cheek, he was visibly trying to calm himself before he turned to Merlin. “I expect you to look into this, Lord Merlin, and to keep me abreast of whatever you find.”

Arthur blinked in obvious surprise at not only the change in title, but at the fact that Valiant had not retaliated to his obvious provocation.

“I will,” Merlin agreed because, no matter how much he did not like Valiant, he’d had a point. This could be the work of the sorcerer, or of the traitor the sorcerer had within Mercia. “I would like permission to search yours and Malcolm’s quarters. There may be more hex bags or spells hidden there.”

Valiant raised an eyebrow. “I did not plan on leaving until you agreed to do just that.”

Refusing to roll his eyes at that imperial tone, Merlin turned his gaze upon Arthur, seeing the darkening unhappiness in those eyes. “Do you have time?”

In seconds surprise flittered in those blues, and Arthur nodded wordlessly.

Valiant was already headed down the stairs, and Merlin reached for Arthur’s hand, taking it in his as he followed afterwards. A smile touched his lips at the way Arthur kept sending their held hands embarrassed yet pleased looks. It was funny how he’d claimed Arthur much more physically in front of others, and yet this small display seemed to make Arthur very bashful. It was that amusement that kept Merlin distracted as they finally made it to Valiant, and only when he was in the doorway did Merlin realize how bad this could play out, but Arthur definitely would not have allowed him to come to Valiant’s room alone, so he’d really had no other choice.

Entering the room after an impatient Valiant, Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand before letting it go and beginning his search of both Valiant’s and Malcolm’s room. He fixed his attention on his mission, not allowing him to think of the far too much time he’d spent inside of this room, against every single surface. He especially hesitated over the lounge chair and the bed, but he needed to check everything.

He glanced over his shoulder once or twice, finding Arthur leaning with his back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, a dark, murderous yet simultaneously pained expression on his face. He’d angled himself oddly so his back was towards the lounge chair, and yet sometimes his gaze would shift from Merlin’s back to the lounge chair and he’d look sick, pale, and he’d look away resolutely, shutting his eyes tightly. A part of Merlin was terrified that Arthur somehow _knew_ , but there was no way Arthur could know about Valiant’s favorite fucking spot since it gave him the ability to watch everything thanks to his mirrors. But Arthur wasn’t an idiot, he probably had an idea of why that lounge chair was shifted so it faced the mirrors.

If Merlin’s magic wasn’t so tired from finally crafting the spell he would’ve been able to do this quicker, but he couldn’t, so he was forced it to search every single inch of the room, every object in the room itself. Nothing. There was not one trace of magical objects of magical imprints.

And then he moved to Malcolm’s room, and felt it the _second_ he entered it. 

Merlin’s magic reached outwards, searching finding a multitude of magical objects and spell lacing the room. There was another four hex bags that Valiant had not discovered hidden under Malcolm’s bed alone, with a few others littered hidden all over the room. On the ceiling above the bed was a sigil traced in invisible magic. Other sigils were on each and every room.

This boy had not only been targeted by someone with magic, he’d never stood a chance.

Flinging his arms outwards, Merlin’s magic surged out of him like a flood of gold, covering each and every inch and object of the room, and where it met magic of another kind that magic turned black, charred, revealing the outlines of the sigils and burning through the hex bags, leaving them now nullified.

“Gods below,” Valiant hissed from far too close to Merlin.

“What _is_ all of that?” Arthur wanted to know in a shocked voice.

Merlin didn’t answer, his gaze taking in the state of the room as betrayed by his own magic. “Valiant, what do you know about Malcolm?”

“He was a shite manservant,” Valiant declared immediately. “Other than that, nothing. He came to Mercia a couple of years ago and ended up in my employ.” There was a pause. “ _Why_?”

“Because, I do not think his murder had anything to do with _you,_ ” Merlin admitted as he stepped further into the room, watching his magic eating away at the sigils placed there. 

“How can you say that?” Valiant snapped in disbelief. “Because of his death I was nearly imprisoned! It _has_ to do with me!”

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur asked, voice wary. “What can you see that we do not about this?”

Taking in a deep breath, Merlin turned to find both Arthur and Valiant inside of the room, each on one side of the door, both staring at him with wary expressions.

“That sigil,” Merlin answered as he pointed to the one above the bed. “That is a sigil called Ragnan’s Mark, it works its dark intentions against those it is over while they sleep, slowly, making sure it is unnoticeable. It can only only used against traitors, against someone who has gone against a magical promise or something of the like. This was personal. This was a hit against _Malcolm_.”

“Who the hell would want to kill him though?” Arthur asked in confusion. “Malcolm didn’t know magic, so how could he have broken some magical oath or something of the like?”

Valiant’s eyebrow raised. “I wouldn’t be surprised that he’d annoy someone enough to kill him, he was extremely incompetent, I was much more magnanimous with him than anyone gave me any credit for.”

Ignoring that, Merlin stared at Ragnan’s Mark as it slowly dissolved into nothingness.

Just what the hell had Malcolm been involved in? And did it have anything to do with the problems they were facing - or was it yet another trouble they had yet to discover?

* * *

 

It was only because Merlin had sent Arthur to Owain to see whether the shrewd boy had known more about Malcolm than the others (he usually did know more than anyone else of what went on in the castle and of the people within) that Merlin was alone as he made his way to discuss things with Lancelot regarding the new occurrence. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell the queen anything, not until he had more information, but as always while Merlin had been King Bayard’s advisor, Lancelot had been _his_. They sounded off ideas and information off of each other all the time, trusting each other wit the problems that flummoxed or disturbed them.

He was about to knock on the door when he heard the sound.

Confused, wary, Merlin used his magic to peer through the walls, and what he saw on the other side surprised him so much his ability to see through the walls flickered and disappeared for a second before returning in full force.

Lancelot was on his back on his desk, his things scattered all over the ground, his hands gripping the edged of the desk to try and keep himself from being punted off of the desk by each thrust. His head was tilted back, his lips parted, utter pleasure on his face, his voice soft begs for more. And yet, the one between his legs was not Cassius, and a quick glance around the room proved that Cassius was no where in sight.

There, between Lancelot’s legs, pounding into him so hard beads of sweat were dripping down his body, was none other than Lord Percival, who was _definitely_ not one of the few people Lancelot and Cassius had agreed to play with together. That, coupled with the fact that Cassius wasn’t present like he should be, proved that despite having been considering actual monogamy, Lancelot was currently having an affair with the Escetian… _Mercian_ … Lord.

“Lance—I don’t think—-,” Percival groaned as he shoved himself harder and harder.

“Shhhhh,” Lancelot groaned as he wrapped his legs around Percival in a clear attempt to keep that cock inside of him. “There’s nothing wrong in you letting out your frustrations.”

“But you—-Cassius—-and fair Guinevere…” And yet Percival let out a ragged moan, his cock was obviously massive like Valiant’s, yet while it did not match Valiant’s ridiculously thick girth it seemed somewhat longer.

“Can you truly stop?” Lancelot teased while undulating his hips, squeezing around that cock.

The feeling had Percival sobbing as he nearly collapsed on top of Lancelot, fucking into him harder, faster, kissing the knight beneath him as he did so before grunting as he came inside of him. Guilt was clear on Percival’s face even as he came, even as he twitched and groaned in the aftermath of his pleasure, even as—with a whisper from Lancelot in his ear—he grabbed the man by the hips and switched their position so he was seated on Lancelot’s chair, fucking into him roughly once more.

Lancelot, for his part, groaned like a whore, goosebumps filling his body as he surged forwards and kissed Percival hungrily. He whispered dirty things against Percival’s lips, words of encouragement, of reproach, mentioning Guinevere’s horror should she ever see Percival doing something like this. He chuckled deeply in his throat when the latter had the knight jackhammering inside of him in reaction, the knight calling the lord all kinds of names that had Percival sobbing and fucking up into him.

And then suddenly Lancelot was sobbing, telling ‘Percy’ to hold up, not to go so hard, and then he was cumming, and Percival cried out pitifully and came inside of Lancelot once again.

Lancelot stretched his body as much as he could while still speared on Percival’s cock. “You’re still so hard, Percy. No matter how much you protest it every time we do this, your body betrays how much of a little slut. You’d break little Guinevere in half with this root of yours buried inside of her.”

Percival threw his head back in pleasure at those words as he gripped Lancelot’s hips and began to roughly maneuver his back and forth, fucking the tanned man on his cock.

Merlin rolled his eyes, annoyed that this was taking so long. That was why he opened the door and entered, closing it behind him. “I tried to wait but it seems like you two are going to be at it for a while and I honestly don’t have the time.”

Lord Percival went white as a sheet while stilling inside of Lancelot. “Gr-Grand C-Court—-this is not—-we are not—-.” And then he groaned in surprised horror when Lancelot leaned back with his hands on Percival’s thighs, using his grip on them to return to fucking himself on his cock.

Lancelot’s smile was amused, his head tilted slightly backwards so he could eye Merlin. “Can I _help you_ , Merlin?” It wasn’t a sexual come-on, more of an amused ‘well you interrupted so deal with it’ kind of phrasing. 

“Malcolm was murdered,” Merlin replied.

Immediately the smile slipped from Lancelot’s face as he slipped off of Percival’s lap, turning to fully face Merlin. “What do you mean he was murdered? I thought you and Cassius ruled out any foul play?”

“There was no sign of magic on him at the time, or in the location of his death,” Merlin corrected. “But Valiant found a hex bag under Malcolm’s bed, and when I went to his room it was _covered_ in all kinds of hexes. They weren’t strong enough to bother _me_ but more than enough for a boy his size with no magical abilities.”

Lancelot opened his mouth and then frowned as he turned to Percival, who was putting on his clothes. “Can you excuse us for a bit, Percy?”

Percival nodded curtly at him before turning to Merlin. “Grand Court Sorcerer, I know I have no—.”

“I will tell no one,” Merlin assured him.

Relief filled his face before Percival hurried away.

Lancelot watched him go with reluctance and then sighed as he eased himself back onto the seat. “Well _he_ is never going to accept any of my offers again after this.”

Merlin pursed his lips. “Not that I care, but were you not the one considering monogamy the other day?”

A bit of guilt flittered over Lancelot’s features. “I’m doing a public service by tempering his needs. He is going to make a fool of himself soon by approaching Guinevere and I thought—-.”

“So you are risking your relationship with Cassius, your family, out of the _goodness of your heart_?” Merlin asked, not judgmentally, more in a‘say that to someone who doesn’t know you’ kind of way.

Lancelot sighed and covered his face with a groan. “I love Cassius, and I adore the family we have together with Lucan.”

“But?” Merlin raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the seat opposite the desk. 

“But…” Lancelot breathed out slowly. “I suppose I am Mercian at heart.” He made a face. “I wanted to try having what you and Arthur have, I suppose I wanted someone as dedicated just to me as Arthur is to you. Honestly, a part of me really wanted to hate him at first but he’s a good kid, and I admire his ability to devote himself so fully to you.” He looked up at Merlin. “I do not know if I will ever be able to be that way for _anyone_ , I do not know if _any_ Mercian will be able to do that.” He made a face. “Other than some of the Masters, of course, but that’s magic tying them to their pets. And even then, no one has _one_ lover exclusively, permanently, like you two do.”

That was true. Merlin and Arthur were the only ones in an actual monogamous relationship in the whole court as far as he knew. It was why he’d been taken aback when Lancelot had mentioned curiosity towards trying it himself.

“Don’t you miss it?” Lancelot asked curiously. “I’m not Arthur, I _know_ the real you, the _old_ you. How can you go to that to just _one_ person?” He looked like he felt guilty for asking this, but still felt the need to do so. “Doesn’t it keep you weaker?”

“Of course it does,” Merlin chuckled darkly at the foolish question. “Arthur may be able to satiate my hunger, but he is only one person, and I would never even think to try and draw from him the way I used to do from my multiple partners.” He thought about Julius, about—-about Tauren. He shuddered and took in a deep breath before returning his gaze to Lancelot. “But Arthur is not comfortable with the idea of others in the bedroom, and I’m not too sure I am either if I’m being honest. Simon showed me this vision of Arthur being taken by another man and part of me was aroused while the other part of me disgusted. Although, had that delusion not been begging to be seeded I might have allowed it to reach its natural conclusion.”

Lancelot just stared at him silently. “I feel very conflicted. I am your friend and for a very long time your lover, but at the same time I have this surprising friendship with Arthur as well, and I do not want to betray the trust he has in me.”

Tilting his head, Merlin eyed the Head Knight of Mercia. “What conflicts you, Lancelot?”

The man eyed Merlin, looked around the room, and then sighed as he ran his hand down his face. “The part of me that is Arthur’s friend wants to commend you for what you are doing, while the part of me that is _your_ friend wants to tell you to stop denying who you are and what you need, especially if it comes to winning this war.” He leaned back heavily in his seat, clearly uneasy and guilty. “Merlin, if Malcolm was murdered by magical means it is yet another problem we have to face here, yet another threat coming at us. There’s only so much you can be expected to do at the minimal power level.” He raised an eyebrow. “What happens if something happens to Arthur? You’d try to heal him again like you did in the dungeons, and _I was there_ to see the fallout, _he_ wasn’t. You won’t be able to survive that again but you love him enough that you’d try even if it meant you dying.”

“While I understand what you are saying, and I see the value, wisdom _and_ concern behind your words I do not want to do anything that would hurt Arthur, and that would hurt him.” Merlin leaned back hard in his seat as well. 

“Then what about when you hurt him by drawing too much from him?” Lancelot wanted to know, filling Merlin with cold dread at the thought. “He might be able to handle it now, but what about in time? It took Julius, _what_ , three or four years of feeding you before he went utterly insane, consumed? And that was that he’d been placed in charge of you due to his knowledge of your… heritage.” Lancelot did not know the full extent of what Merlin was, but he was not an idiot, and had made enough hints in the past to reveal he’d figure Merlin to be a Cambion. “I wasn’t here when that happened, Merlin, but I heard all about it from the others.” Lancelot raised an eyebrow. “I do not want Arthur’s feelings to be hurt, but I want even less for something like that to happen to him.”

Merlin flinched, feeling sick at his stomach at the very thought of Arthur staring back at him with empty, black eyes instead of his beautiful blues.

“As your Consort Arthur’s place of importance will never be questioned, but you and I both know, Merlin that while you might love him enough to try and fight your desires, you _need_ to love him enough to hurt his feelings if it means _protecting_ him.” Lancelot leaned forwards. “I’m not saying to throw your affairs in his face, but you need to find people who will not only understand what it is you need - that it is merely a _feed -_ but who will not try and get in the middle of your relationship with Arthur.”

Merlin stared at his friend and advisor before looking away, disturbed by this conversation and the assurance in Lancelot’s tone. What if he was right? What if by trying to please Arthur he hurt him? What if—-what if he did what he had to Julius to Arthur? Merlin hadn’t meant to do it then either, and yet, and _yet_ …

Nausea filled his stomach at the thought. He’d thought his still being very young and unable to control his demon was what had truly gotten to Julius, but Lancelot made an excellent point. Merlin had been sure the only worry of having a sole lover had been draining them dry, and yet when Arthur had seemed fine he’d allowed himself to hope, to dream… but what if Lancelot was right? What if Merlin was doing something horrible to Arthur.

“I know I’ll lose his friendship should he ever know I told you this,” Lancelot admitted with heavy sigh, “but I am trying my best to protect the both of you in the only way I can.”

“I know that,” Merlin admitted softly.

“Well, we still have a while before we have to worry, just, just think about what I said, Merlin.” Lancelot eyed him before shaking his head. “Now, tell me all you know about what happened to Malcolm.”

Merlin happily did, even if only to change the subject which had left such a sour taste in his mouth. He finally finished saying everything, he looked up at Lancelot, awaiting his reaction.

Lancelot just stared at him with a frown. “Why would a boy with no magic be targeted by someone for breaking some sort of magical oath or bond or whatever?”

“I do not know,” Merlin replied. “But given my anchors and wards were only breached once, it means that whoever did it is probably still in the castle.”

The Head Knight’s face fell. “Tell no one else of this, Merlin. Let us keep it between the both of us. In fact, let us not talk about this more for now. The fact that traitors are around is is growing ever more present and we do not know who we may trust.” 

Merlin nodded his agreement. “I will continue my search on my own, and only when I discover the culprit will I come back to you regarding this.”

“And together we will handle the situation,” Lancelot promised before sighing. “Now, if you excuse me, Merlin, I need to put on some pants and go talk to the queen regarding some unrelated matters.”

Merlin nodded and arose, leaving, meeting up with Arthur at Owain’s room, the manservant even more shaken now than he had been when Malcolm had  died. He was more pissed than before though, veritably shaking with his fury as he paced his room.

“What sort of magic was it?” Owain wanted to know. “Druidic? Sorcerer? Enchanter?”

“You can tell?” Arthur asked in surprise.

“ _Merlin_ can tell,” Owain assured him.

And yet, Merlin sighed as he leaned against the wall. “I could not tell.”

Owain froze, eyes wide. “ _What_?”

“It was… muddled.” Merlin couldn’t quite explain it. “I haven’t felt something as.. muddled is as good of a word as I am going to find. I do not know what would make someone’s magic so… _muddled_.” He groaned, unable to believe that was the only word he could find to describe it.

Clearly unnerved by that, Owain took in a deep breath and turned to lean hard against his bedpost. “Malcolm was a nice guy, he was really silent a lot, and he took a lot of crap from Valiant. He always had a smile on his face even if Valiant had left him with bruises on his face, he was still, you know, happy somehow. As if that wasn’t so bad, and it always made me wonder what he’d gone through that he thought being Valiant’s punching bag wasn’t…” Owain took in a very deep breath. “I should have asked more, I should have pried, I should have—-.”

“Owain.” Merlin’s voice was harsher than he would’ve liked. “None of this is your fault. _Nothing_ is your fault.” He stared into Owain’s eyes, letting him see every meaning those words had. “We cannot help him now, but we _can_ bring to justice whoever did it to him.”

Taking in a deep breath, Owain nodded. “I’ll talk to Irvyn, he and Daniel were friends with Malcolm. I’ll see what they have to say, they might know something.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in!” Owain called after a second.

The door opened to reveal Lancelot and Percival there, smirked looks on their faces as Lancelot turned to Percival and patted his jacket’s inner pocket with glee. “I _told_ you he’d be here. You owe me two pints of mead.”

Percival pouted at him before turning to Arthur. “You lost me two pints.”

Arthur blinked. “How did I do that?”

Percival sighed, looking put upon.

Lancelot chuckled and slapped his back playfully before turning to Arthur. “We are here to drag your ass back onto the training field. I don’t know what your self-imposed exile has been all about these last two days, but the knights _need_ you to boss them around to keep them in line.”

Percival nodded. “They’re really scared of you for some reason.”

Lancelot snickered, elbowing Percival in the ribs before turning his bright grin on Merlin. “You don’t mind, right, Merlin?”

“No. Of course not.” Merlin shook his head, relieved that there didn’t seem to not only be any awkwardness between Percival and Lancelot, but Percival wasn’t acting weird around Merlin either as he had expected given how things had ended between them.

Arthur looked between the twosome and Merlin, clearly conflicted.

“Go on,” Merlin shooed him with a smile. “I like the smell of you after training.”

The boy went scarlet in two seconds flat, and looked utterly shocked at that revelation.

Percival grinned and held out a hand to Lancelot, who sighed, reached into the inner pocket he’d been patting earlier, and pulled out a parchment which had the words **I WAS RIGHT** scribbled onto it to Percival, who pocketed it with a grin.

Lancelot pouted, clearly unhappy at having lost that piece of paper. He then turned that pout on Merlin, clearly blaming him for its loss. 

Ignoring the surprising good mood, Merlin turned to Arthur and beckoned him with a curled finger, only to pull Arthur close and kiss him deeply before letting him go with a little shove towards Lancelot and Percival, who grabbed Arthur and pulled the blushing blonde out before he could even say anything.

The door closed behind them.

Owain immediately turned to Merlin. “Have you told him about the dark moon?”

“Not yet,” Merlin mumbled.

“Do you want _me_ to tell him about it?” Owain offered wryly, an expression which only grew when Merlin turned to him in obvious surprise and eagerness. “ _Why_ exactly are you this hesitant to tell him yourself? He’s _been_ through a ritual already.”

“That was not even _close_ to a dark moon,” Merlin huffed.

“ _True_ ,” Owain muttered before snorting. “Bayard used to say—-.” And then his smile slipped away as he hugged himself tightly, staring ahead of him unseeingly before he took in a deep breath and shook his head. “I cannot believe he is gone.”

Merlin gulped back against the feelings welling within him as he nodded his head. “I am sorry.”

“It was wrong of me to blame you,” Owain whispered. “I was misdirecting my feelings towards you, because I knew that if you hadn’t saved him, it meant it was _my_ fault somehow, and I didn’t—I didn’t want to think—-.” He closed his eyes tightly. “He should’ve let me die. I’m just a _servant_ , Merlin. He was the king. _I_ am not important.”

“You were the most important thing _to him_ ,” Merlin corrected softly.

Owain’s face twisted in pain before he took in another deep breath and steadied himself. “I’ve heard rumors that you are working things so that Camelot has its independence after this war.” He tightened his hold on his own arms. “If you are truly planning on going to Camelot, I want to come as well.” He looked up at Merlin. “It is hard to _breathe_ when everywhere I look, all I see is _him_.”

Merlin had nothing to say. He couldn’t say anything. He understood the grief all too well. It was why he said nothing, merely drew Owain close and let the boy cry.

* * *

 

While Merlin had had every intention of spending the night breathing in Arthur’s scent while he fucked leisurely into him while surrounded by warm, sweet-smelling water... news arrived to them via a falcon sent by Caerleon:

Camelot and its allied troops were marching on Mercia.

Caerleon and Northumbria were rallying to stand by the new Mercia during the battle when the troops met, and yet they were still horribly outnumbered by their enemies.

That meant Merlin had to forgo any plans of pleasure, instead fixated on the books he’d been researching for Bayard. He needed to find it. He _had_ to find it. That was why Arthur bathed alone that evening, and when Merlin had forgone dinner yet bade Arthur to eat his fill, the boy had gotten on his knees, freed Merlin from his trousers, and taken his fill of that cock. 

It was a little hard to concentrate with those lips wrapped around him, but Merlin wouldn’t stop him for the world. He magicked the floor under Arthur comfortable so his knees would not hurt him, and while one hand held up the tome the other remained on Arthur’s hair, caressing those golden locks. Arthur’s pace was incredibly slow, his tongue worshiping Merlin’s rod, his groans deep and needy, and yet he didn’t hurry his pace, content to slowly, very slowly, bob his head and lavish Merlin with his warm and wet devotion. His hands trailed up and down Merlin’s body, as if he could not get enough of his taste, his touch.

While Merlin’s body was under strain as he tried to merely bask in the pleasure and not actively fuck up into Arthur’s mouth, Merlin’s magic, his _demon_ , loved this display of open, wanton need. It loved the way Arthur was addicted to Merlin’s body, loved the way that Arthur’s need had obviously won over his pride. The demon loved the utter, complete dominion Arthur gave it over himself, how he mewled and sobbed and begged and ordered and pleaded and threatened. It was true that being with just Arthur made Merlin weaker than had he continued having multiple lovers, but his demon was far too busy fantasizing of darker and darker ways to break Arthur until he couldn’t live without Merlin’s cock being buried constantly inside of him to really mind.

If things had been left up to the demon, Merlin would have thrown his book over his shoulder and now be holding Arthur’s head still so he could force his cock down Arthur’s throat. It was the human side of Merlin that held back, that recognized the responsibility on his shoulders and his duty to _too many people_ to just allow himself to enjoy himself.

Arthur slipped his mouth free from the cock and began pressing adoring kisses against the hard rod. He licked, sucked, rubbed his lips and face against it adoringly while his hips shifted in obvious need beneath him. His breathing was heavy, his eyes dark, his lips parted and his face covered in a dark flush.

“ _Merlin_ ,” the prince whispered between long licks up that shaft. “Merlin, I’m _hungry_.”

For a moment Merlin didn’t understand, and then he _did,_ and it really was all he could do not to actually throw the book away and fuck the tease. “Open your mouth wide then, Arthur.”

Arthur’s eagerness was nearly enough to make him cum then and there as the blonde returned his lips to Merlin’s cock, taking him in deep. Still, he was a little unprepared for Merlin’s magic to push down on his head while simultaneously coating his throat and issuing him that unnatural supply of oxygen as it began to lower him more fully onto Merlin’s cock. He flailed around, the position clearly uncomfortable until the magic shifted him, lifting him oddly in the air, facilitating Merlin’s cock as it began to push its way deeper into Arthur’s throat.

The prince groaned and reached for Merlin, hands all over every bit of him that he could touch as Merlin’s magic began to move his whole body, lifting and lowering him so that his lips went from just about to leave Merlin’s tip to his nose being pressed snuggly into Merlin’s dark curls. His own cock was hard, wetness dripping from its tip.

Merlin eyed it lustfully, distracted, and before he could even ask it to, his magic had shifted Arthur upside down, presenting his weeping cock to him. The sorcerer gripped the book tighter yet ignore it as he grabbed Arthur by the hip and pulled him closer seconds before taking that cock into his own mouth.

Arthur screamed around Merlin’s base, his grip on Merlin’s thighs tightening as his body jerked uncontrollably.

Ignoring those cries and whispers, Merlin hollowed his lips as he took Arthur in deeper, his lips forming a tight seal around it as his tongue licked and tasted the desire that had pouring from the boy. He quickly forgot all about the book clutched tightly in his other hand, his mind totally lost to Arthur’s sweetness, to the delectable taste that coated his tongue and slipped down his throat.

By the gods. Was there _any_ part of Arthur that didn’t taste like honey?

It didn’t take long for Arthur’s hips to begin thrusting thoughtlessly, his need running thicker and thicker, and Merlin took it even as he thrusted into Arthur. He’d thought they’d gotten a rhythym, he’d thought this might be it in terms of how he’d be spending his night, but then suddenly Arthur was crying and his hips thrusting seconds before he came in Merlin’s mouth.

The sorcerer consumed the proof of Arthur’s desire, surprised because it tasted unlike how he’d remembered seed to taste. It was sweet, incredibly sweet, just like every part of Arthur. It was Merlin’s favorite taste. _Arthur_ was his favorite taste.

At the realization, Merlin found his own completion, savoring the eager whine Arthur let out when he recognized the signs seconds before Merlin thrusted once, twice, and then let his own pleasure fill Arthur’s body. Gravity would’ve dictated it would fall, but Arthur sealed his lips as best as he could in an effort not to lose a drop.

Merlin’s magic eased the blonde off of him, placed him back on his feet, and the second he did it Arthur - cheeks inflated - swallowed.

The demon snarled hungrily.

Merlin nearly got up to shove Arthur towards the bed when he realized his hand was glowing. He looked down and his eyes widened when he saw writing that had not been visible before now glowing on the pages of the book. He looked between Arthur and the book before he leaned back hard against his seat.

“Arthur.” Merlin barely recognized his voice. “It would seem that your actions have somehow unlocked this book.”

A little bit of the desire left those eyes, which were wide and now on the book. “What? _How_? Why?”

“I’m not sure.” Merlin shifted himself on the seat. “I was going to let you sleep tonight, but I’m afraid I can’t let that happen.”

“Do you think that if I’m asleep the book will unlock itself again?” Arthur asked curiously, proving just how innocent he truly was.

“No.” Merlin shook his head as he reached down to stroke his own cock. “I just don’t know if it’s possible for you to fall asleep with me inside of you yet.”

And like _that_ the desire was completely back, Arthur rubbing his thighs together. “ _Oh_.” He licked his lips and grinned to himself, before clearing his throat and looking up at Merlin. “Well, we all have to make sacrifices for the good of our cause.”

Snickering in laughter, Merlin reached for Arthur with his free hand, pulling him towards him. Arthur went eagerly, shifting to sit on Merlin’s lap, slowly easing himself down on Merlin’s cock with whined happiness.

Seeing magic flare up in the book, Merlin wouldn’t chance putting it down so his own magic shifted Arthur’s legs far enough apart so that they were hooked around the outside of Merlin’s legs, spreading Arthur more open and allowing Merlin to sink in deeper. The desk moved on its own from their side, arranging itself in front of them, the edge close to Arthur’s stomach, trapping him good and well between Merlin’s body and the table.

A part of Merlin had always wondered what it would be like in this position, even with the rituals he’d made sure to keep distance between the table and his chair, and yet a dark part of him finally understood the appeal. Even if Arthur had wanted to escape he wouldn’t be able to, and the thought sent a thrill through Merlin’s body as he began to move inside of Arthur carefully.

There was a strange tension that had come over Arthur once he’d been set in this position. He looked around them at the books, at the quills, parchments and other study materials. He visibly took note at the way he was trapped between the desk and Merlin’s body. Arthur glanced down, unable to see where they were joined due to the desk’s proximity, but his feet shifted awkwardly from their position hooked around the outside of Merlin’s. His gaze went inexplicably to the maps around Merlin’s tower and then to the book of bestiaries. “It’s like a classroom,” he whispered to himself. 

This strange comment, and the tension, bothered Merlin enough to stop moving and instead press kisses into Arthur’s neck. “Are you okay, Arthur? Does this make you uncomfortable for some reason?”

There was a long silence, and then a soft: “Are _you_ okay doing this?” He sounded, surprisingly, worried. “Do _you_ want to do it like this? In this position? In a place like this?”

Merlin frowned in worry at that question. “Would you feel forced to do so if I said yes?”

“Merlin, I want you no matter what,” Arthur told him softly. “I just want to make sure _you_ are okay.”

Confused yet oddly touched, Merlin wrapped his arms - even the one holding the book - around Arthur’s waist and he nuzzled his face into the side of his face. “I _really_ want to fuck you like this.” He nibbled on Arthur’s neck. “I’ve always wanted to try this, but I, I just haven’t until now, but I want to, with _you_.”

“ _Yeah_?” Arthur groaned, his tension leaving him just as quickly and confusingly as it had appeared, quickly being replaced by lust. “You want me like this?”

Unable to understand the rush of desire that raced through him at that question, Merlin buried his face in the back of Arthur’s neck as he tightened his grip around him and groaned. “ ** _So badly_**.”

“ _Oh gods_ ,” Arthur whimpered in response, rubbing his feet against Merlin’s legs desperately. “ _You do_? _Oh godssss…”_ He undulated his hips, whimpering at the feeling of Merlin inside of him, sounding amazed and happy and relieved and a million other emotions. “Say something, Merlin. T-Tell me how you feel. D-do you like this? Do you really l-like this?"

He wasn’t quite sure _what_ was going on, but Merlin enjoyed this verbose version of Arthur. “Yes, Arthur, I like this _very_ much,” he assured as he began to move up inside of you. “I like the idea of you being trapped, unable to escape my cock as it claims you. I like the idea that, should you somehow fall asleep, there is somewhere for you to rest your head while I continue to use you.”

“ _Oh gods!_ ” Arthur sobbed, reaching out to dig his fingers into the desk’s wood. “If you—-if you had been our C-Court S-Sorcerer you w-would have been my Magical History tutor — you could have taught me _like this_.”

Merlin roared at the thought as he wrapped himself around the prince so tightly it must hurt, beginning to fuck up inside of him quicker, rougher. He snarled at the way the book was hindering him, and with a sudden decision he threw it behind them on the floor so he could fully embrace Arthur, pressing hungry kisses up his shoulder, neck, the side of his face, his hair, anywhere he could touch. 

“Teach me, Merlin,” Arthur begged as he rolled his hips into each thrust, glorying in Merlin’s hungry kisses. “T-Teach me, _Grand Court Sorcerer_.”

His teeth ached to sink into that flesh but he instead pressed hungry kisses. “The first thing I’ll have to teach you, Little Prince, is to keep your voice down,” he chuckled into that ear. “Or _do_ you want someone walking in on your lessons?”

“I’ll be quiet,” Arthur promised with a loud whine. “I’ll be a good student, Grand Court Sorcerer. I’ll listen to _everything_ you say.”

“Everything?” Merlin relished this little role-play yet was a little worried how far he could take it given the fact that Arthur’s parents were dead. On one hand he _really_ wanted to play up the fact that the king and queen should be checking in on the prince’s progress during classes, but on the other hand, with their deaths, it would most probably be too much too soon for Arthur.

“Anything—- _everything_ ,” Arthur sobbed. 

Merlin’s hands slipped up under Arthur’s shirt, caressing his body possessively, desperately, loving the way Arthur’s stomach muscles danced under his touch. “You promised you’d be quiet, Prince Arthur. Already you’re being _very_ disobedient.”

Immediately Arthur’s hands rose to his lips, muffling his groans and cries poorly but still managing to show his willingness to obey.

“Repeat after me,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s hair, desperate to keep some control over himself but losing very rapidly. “There are many kinds of magic that exist in this world. Some of these are: sorcerery, elemental, druidic, magism, enchantment, hedgecraft, alchemy, bestial and demonic to name a few, but there are many more.”

“Sorc-cery, elemen—-!” Arthur sobbed loudly when Merlin bucked harder into him. “Druidic, magism, en-enchantment, hedgecraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaft!” He threw his head back and cried hard as Merlin’s cock rubbed that spot inside of him.

“You’ve forgotten three,” Merlin teased into his ear.

“Huh?” Arthur whimpered, disoriented with pleasure. 

“ _You. Forgot. Three._ ” Merlin emphasized each word with a rough thrust which bounced Arthur so roughly the top of his thighs hit the bottom of the desk.

“H-hedgecraft?” Arthur asked absentmindedly as he arched his back.

“No, you already said that one,” Merlin chuckled darkly.

“Magism?” Arthur suddenly wailed and gripped the table once more as Merlin fucked into him even harder, the force driving him harder into the edge of the desk.

“ _Concentrate, Prince Arthur_.” Merlin draped himself against Arthur’s back, pining him impossibly tightly against the desk and his body. “What are the three you are forgetting?” And then, when he realized Arthur was enjoying this _far_ too much to concentrate on what he was saying, Merlin stopped moving.

Immediately Arthur let out a cry of need. “N-no—-don’t—-don’t _stop_!”

“ _Which ones are you forgetting_?” Merlin hissed in Arthur’s hair, his magic stilling those wriggling hips.

Despair escaped Arthur in a sob as he breathed erratically. “Merlin _please_!”

“If you do not answer I will not be able to continue with the class,” Merlin teased. “What will _certain people_ say when they come to check up on you and find out that you’ve been such a bad student? When they realize you’re not even _trying_ to pay attention.”

“ _But I am_!” Arthur lied outright.

The realization made Merlin chuckle as he licked up Arthur’s neck. “ _Think_ , Arthur. Which ones are you missing? They really shouldn’t be too hard to remember all things considered.”

Obviously catching the hint the sorcerer had just given him, Arthur took in a ragged breath, his elbows on the desk and his head bent, his eyes closed in concentration. “Hedgecraft… _bestial_?” He then threw his head back when Merlin gave him a deep thrust in reward. “A-alchemy?” Arthur’s eyes flew open and his lips parted in a throaty gasp as his body rose and fell with the next thrust. “Hmmm… Fey?”

“That _is_ another kind of magic, but that isn’t one of the ones that I mentioned,” Merlin murmured against Arthur’s neck as he sucked marks into it.

The sound Arthur let out was tortured. “ _Master,_ ** _please_** _.”_

Taking pity, Merlin licked the shell of Arthur’s ear while whispering: “ _Whose cock is inside of you right now, Prince Arthur_?”

“ **Yours, Master** ,” Arthur groaned dutifully, twitching ticklishly at the attention being paid to his ear.

He couldn’t stop his wide grin at that, yet he still nipped at Arthur’s earlobe. “True, but not exactly the answer I was looking for.” He nibbled Arthur’s ear, his cheek, his neck, everything he could get his teeth into, growing more and more desperate for Arthur to get it right so he could fuck him again. “ _Whose mate are you, Prince Arthur?_ ” He groaned at the shiver that raced down Arthur’s body at that question. “ _What wants nothing more than to cover you in cum and live deep inside of your body, marking you from within, from without, and make it so that you cannot live without me being inside of you?_ ” It was all he could do not to thrust. Honestly, this was seeming more like a punishment for himself by now but he somewhat held strong. “ _What’s snarling inside me that its been far too long already since I’ve given your body my seed? What is pacing unhappily because I’m not thrusting inside of you? What is clawing, pacing, snarling, because you’re its bitch and it needs me to continuously prove that to you and anyone who dares think otherwise_?” He was so close to losing it! So close to saying ‘fuck it’ and just _fuck Arthur_. “ _What claims you just as fiercely as I do? What is screaming at me right now because I won’t fucking_ ** _move_** _?”_

_“The demon!_ ** _Your_** _demon!_ ** _You_** _!”_ Arthur sobbed desperately, his cock gushing so much desire it now dripped between their bodies and drenched the place where Merlin’s cock speared him. “ _My mate_ ,” Arthur whimpered. “Merlin, Master, _Mate_ ,” he sobbed and more and more of his wetness seeped down and coated his entrance. “Please, demon, _please_. Fuck me, demon. Make my cruel Master fuck me. Make him claim, me. _Please_.” Arthur shivered violently. “Make him fill my womb with your seed, I _beg_ **you** , _my_ demon, _my_ mate.”

The demon within Merlin went absolutely still, shocked, _never_ having been addressed before… and then it _absolutely lost any semblance of reason and control_.

Merlin roared demonically as he shoved Arthur face down into the table and pinned him _completely_ before beginning to fuck viciously into Arthur. With his body completely covering and trapping Arthur it was hard to kiss him at that angle so he grabbed a fistful of hair and arched that neck enough for his lips to meet Arthur’s, capturing his lips in a kiss and swallowing his screams as he pounded into him mercilessly. Arthur sounded like he was being murdered, the boy unable to even try to keep up with or meet those thrusts. His toes curled and goosebumps covered his whole body as he shifted as best he could while completely, absolutely, held in place. 

“Give me your seed, My Mate,” Arthur begged the demon, seeming to realize it had somewhat wrestled the control away from Merlin’s humanity, and instead of being afraid as he should have, the boy’s arousal grew thicker in the air. “Fill my empty womb with it, I’m so empty and in need of your warmth.” He tried fidgeting but couldn’t really move, so entirely trapped. “Let me move, please, My Mate, let me better position myself to receive your essence.”

An inhuman whimper escaped Merlin’s lips, and he was shocked beyond belief when the demon loosened his grip on Arthur, actually allowing him movement as requested. The demon was whimpering, needy, breathing heavily, but it was actually letting Arthur shift, was letting the blonde rearrange himself.

And then Arthur found the position and groaned as he sunk back, hips arched and legs wide, keeping most of his weight on his stomach and elbows on the table. He clenched his ass tightly around the cock buried in there and twisted his head to press a soft yet deep kiss to Merlin’s lips. “Take me, My Mate.”

The demon cried and then roared, forcing Arthur against the table once more, trapping him as Merlin fucked into him desperately. With this new position it had deeper access, and it howled at how its mate had so eagerly acknowledged and readily facilitated its right to be as deep inside of him as possible. It screamed and yowled and clawed, it was not gentle, it could _not_ be gentle, it left bruises and scrapes and claw marks down the sides of Arthur’s body in an effort to leave its claim as visible outside as it would be inside.

Arthur screamed and sobbed and begged it for more, and when Merlin bit deep into his shoulder, drawing his blood as he came deep inside of him, Arthur came at the feeling of warmth filling him, his ass clenching around the rod buried deep inside of him.

Merlin drank the blood welling in his mouth, and when it finally stopped gushing up, his demon snarled a word in an inhumane voice Merlin had never heard himself utter before: “ **_OURS._ ** ”

“ _Yes….”_ Arthur acknowledged immediately, breathlessly. “Your mate, your hole, **yours**.”

Satisfied, the demon relinquished control, settling back inside of Merlin, purring.

The sorcerer slipped his teeth from Arthur’s skin and lapped at the marks his teeth had left behind. A part of him was still reeling from this whole episode. Usually whenever his demon took over Merlin did not remember, and yet, for the first time ever not only had Merlin remained conscious, but it had been as if he’d _become_ the demon instead of being _overcome_ by the demon.

It both terrified and elated him, as did what he’d feel happen the second the demon had slipped back within him, pleased and sated.

“ _Ours_ ,” he whispered softly into Arthur’s skin in his normal voice.

And Arthur, like before, understood immediately. “ _Yours_.”

Merlin started to move again, this time slowly, leaving kisses all over Arthur. “Slave, Pet, Lover, Prince, Concubine, Mate… _Consort_.” He felt Arthur freeze underneath him and then grinned into his hair. “ ** _Mine_**.”

“Consort?” Arthur whispered, hope and disbelief battling in his voice. “Merlin? _Consort_?!?”

Smiling at the sound in that voice, Merlin’s eyes flashed as his magic flipped Arthur around so he was on his back, and within seconds Merlin was nestled in between his legs and back inside of him, fucking into him gently, lovingly, while peppering Arthur’s face with kisses. “ _Consort_.”

Arthur stared up at him in wide eyed disbelief before suddenly his face twisted seconds before he wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck and hid his face there, but not quick enough to hide his sobs.

Merlin froze, worried immediately. Had Arthur just been appeasing the demon? Had he truly been scared? Was the thought out of being consort to the demon so terrifying that he—-.

“ _I was so worried_ ,” Arthur hiccuped into his neck, his grip around him trembling. 

“About what?” Merlin asked, still very worried but now not very sure about what.

“I thought—-I thought you were trying to be rid of me,” Arthur whispered into his neck. 

Merlin’s eyes widened, and even his demon tilted its head inside of him in utter confusion. What the—-? He pulled away, or he would’ve, but Arthur was gripping him far too tightly. “Arthur?” Merlin shifted so he was half leaning over Arthur, who was now seated on the edge of the desk, arms still tightly wrapped around his neck. The sorcerer rubbed Arthur’s back comfortingly, unable to understand why he’d thought that. “Did I do something to scare you?”

The blonde shook his head, confusing him even more.

“Did I say something that made you insecure about my feelings for you?” Merlin asked softly, still trying to understand how in the world this misunderstanding had come about.

Once again Arthur shook his head, but this time he added something before Merlin could ask more probing questions. “There are rumors you want to give Camelot its independence after the war is over and Mercia doesn’t need it anymore.”

Merlin’s eyes widened in sudden understanding, calling himself all kinds of fool for not having even considered those rumors might get back to the prince. “Arthur, can you let go of me for a moment to look at me while I talk to you?”

Arthur shook his head rapidly and held on even tighter.

The sorcerer was stuck between adoring the prince and wanting to bite him in an effort to get him to behave. He looked up at the ceiling, unable to understand how Arthur could be so frustrating and adorable all at the same time, and then he took in a deep breath and tried again while continuing to rub the prince’s back soothingly. “If you won’t look at me then listen to me the whole way through without interrupting, can you do that?”

Arthur nodded into his neck.

Closing his eyes against the adorableness, Merlin took in another deep breath and tried to do this without chuckling, because he doubted Arthur would appreciate it or see the humor the way he did. “Arthur, one of your knights came to talk to me. This knight basically explained that Camelot would never accept anyone but you on their throne, your people are very loyal to you, and even if they were forced to accept Morgana’s child he assured me there would be insurrections.”

Arthur was extremely tense yet didn’t interrupt as promised.

“So this knight wanted me to reconsider my ties to Mercia once the war is over, once the curse is lifted.” Merlin rubbed his head against Arthur’s soothingly. “He also, and I’m being completely honest here, not only insinuated that Camelot would rather have me corrupting their Court than Morgana’s child on the throne… but also revealed to me that your people want me to get you pregnant.”

Arthur pulled away and stared up at Merlin with the hugest eyes he’d ever seen, that blush darkening. “You _lie_.”

Amused, Merlin shook his head. “I’m still trying to process that one myself.”

And then Arthur realized Merlin was telling the truth and turned puce. He once more buried his heated face against Merlin’s cooler skin with a whimper. “Can you?” Arthur asked softly against his skin.

“I very much doubt it,” Merlin admitted with a kiss to the boy’s hair. “It is why I haven’t talked to you about it yet, they want you to have an heir, and I’m not keen on the idea of how it would happen. I wanted to have some solutions before I talked to you about it, I’m sorry that you heard the rumors and misunderstood.”

Relief was exhaled audibly, loudly. “That _asshole_.”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked, still very confused.

“It’s nothing,” Arthur assured him before pulling away and grinning up at Merlin. “My first decree as your Consort is for you to take me to bed so we can properly celebrate.”

“That’s not exactly how this Consort thing works.” And yet Merlin lifted Arthur and threw him over his shoulder, walking him towards the bed and tossing him onto it, following him down, finding his place between those thighs and inside that body.

Arthur groaned and wrapped himself around Merlin wantonly as Merlin began to move.

Lost and forgotten on the floor, the book glowed bright gold, each page turning rapidly as new and hidden writing revealed itself, burning all over the pages.

* * *

 

**_Emrys…_ **

Merlin turned in bed, groaning, as images disturbed his rest.

**_Emrys help…_ **

**Mordred was chained, magical symbols on the steel keeping him bound, the boy being dragged behind a horse. Men in Camelot red were escorting him.**

**_Emrys, I need you…_ **

**Merlin sent a violent, nearly overwhelmingly strong wave of magic towards the young druid through their bond, watching as the shackles around Mordred's wrists glowed gold before exploding.**

**Immediately Mordred flung his hands out, using the added power Merlin was giving him to snap every single one of the men’s necks with a twist of his wrist. The druid collapsed to his knees on the ground, obviously spent from having channeled Merlin's magic, and from the draining qualities the shackles had had.**

In his bed, Merlin groaned, kicking at the blankets in his unease.

Arthur awoke, frowning groggily at the sleeping wizard. "Merlin?"

**Mordred slowly got to his feet before smiling. _Thank you, Emrys._**

**Merlin was worried, very worried, and knew that Mordred would feel it through the link. He knew the boy would also feel the extra magic Merlin channeled in him, renewing the magic within him until the druid would not be able to take morewithout the threat of passing out like Daegal had. Mordred could not be left vulnerable like that, Merlin would not allow that. He would protect him as best he could, however he could, no matter how little it might seem. _Please be careful Mordred. I worry about you and so does the Queen._**

**Mordred smiled tenderly, sadly, as he took in a deep breath and brought his hand to his heart. _I miss you, Emrys…_**

**And with that he raced into the woods.**

Merlin shot up in the bed, gasping. " _Mordred_!"

Arthur sat up, frowning. "You were dreaming of my brother."

"Not a dream." Disoriented, Merlin covered his face with his hands, the images still fresh in his mind. "The magic I've placed inside of him connects us whenever he's in danger."

Arthur was silent for a moment. "I see."

"He'd been captured so he reached out to me." Merlin turned so that his feet were swung off the bed and on the cold ground, the sorcerer hunched over as he breathed in. "I sent him enough magic to free himself and kill his captors. He's fine now." He ran a hand over his face, heart racing, terrified of what might have happened to the dark haired boy if he had been unable to rouse Merlin from his slumber. "He needs to take better care of himself."

"You two-you are close."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, turning his head to look at Arthur. "I know that this isn't what you want to hear, but I was not sleeping with him merely to annoy you, Arthur. I care deeply for him. He has a good heart." He reached out and cupped Arthur's cheek with his hand, sighing when he saw surprising insecurity flutter over Arthur's face. "The fact that I care for Mordred does not mean that it is even close to what I feel for you, Arthur. You should know that by now. I cannot quit you, I would go insane. Whether in Camelot or Mercia or in a ditch somewhere, I will be with you.” He gave a self-depreciating laugh. "You are my one and only obsession."

Arthur leaned into Merlin's touch, his blue eyes searching the sorcerer’s face before those lips pulled in a very self-assured smirk. "Of _course_ I am. _I_ am your Consort.”

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head at how easily Arthur bounced back. "We need to rest, tomorrow will be a busy day."

Arthur nodded, happily lowering himself once more and curling into Merlin to rest his arm around his body and his cheek against his still rapidly beating heart. "This time,” he ordered with a yawn, “dream of _me_."


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was not the normal Consort, and everyone knew it. Not only wasn’t he incredibly delicate with more than a hint of the feminine in him, but he wore clothes better suited to a knight, which the sword he wore at his hips was more than an obvious testament to. 

The outfits that Guinevere had created for him were quite fitting and very fetching. 

The more formal one was a black chainmail armor which was accentuated by a Mercian Blue cloak, Merlin’s and his own families’ crests very subtly intermingled (quite easily given the fact that they both featured a dragon) and engraved into his armor’s chest-plate. 

The more informal one, which Arthur wore during his day to day life, was also a mixture of blacks and blues. It was much more close to a knight’s apparel than one expected to be worn by a consort - especiallythe consort of someone so high in the Mercian Court - but while there were some who commented on it, on the sword Arthur was want to use, most took this change with little interest. By now it was quickly being accepted that Arthur _was not_ the norm, he had not been the normal sex slave, nor concubine, and definitely not consort.

Every time Merlin looked at Arthur his chest welled with pride, but Lancelot’s words also worried him. Still, they had more pressing issues to worry about, and now with the revelation he’d made a couple of nights of the unlocked and translated tomes all around his tower, Merlin had buried himself in work and now, _finally_ , had something to show for it.

It was why he’d awaited for Arthur’s training of the knights (or the swain - Merlin wasn’t quite sure which) to ask Sefa to request Morgana’s presence on his behalf, finally letting the queen and the queen alone in on what her husband had been asking him to research all alone in his tower for far too long. 

Morgana's eyes were wide, her skin pale as her lips parted in shock. She read the passage in the tome he'd shown her and then glanced over to his notes, going over them over and over again in shock before finally her blue orbs rose to his face. Her lips parted and closed continuously as she tried to find the right words, the queen bringing her hand to her stomach as her wide eyes stared at Merlin. "Is this-is this  _real_  Merlin?"

The sorcerer nodded, still somewhat shocked himself. "It was a secret assignment that King Bayard had entrusted to me in the strictest of confidence before his death."

"Why didn't you tell me _this_ was what you have been slaving over all this time?" She whispered, still trying to digest everything.

"I was not sure I would be able to decipher the encryptions," he admitted ruefully, still unable to believe what exactly had unlocked them. He had found pleasure inside of Arthur many times in the books’ presence, but it would appear that by actually holding one of the books while being with Arthur he’d somehow channeled more primal energy into it (and through it the others linked to it), which had unlocked the secrets they held. It was knowledge he guarded away for a further date. “I did not want to tell you in case I was not able to discover its location, it _has_ been hidden for centuries, and for good reason. It is  _tremendously_ powerful." He placed his hand on the Queen's shoulder. "This could assure us the victory in the war."

Morgana stared up at him, eyes shinning with tears that would remain unshed as she cleared her throat and blinked them away. "The allied forces march against us as we speak, time is of the essence." She placed her hand on the one he rested on her shoulder. "You must take our best knights and go wherever this is hidden to retrieve it.”

“They have to be knights from Camelot,” Merlin declared, and hurried to explain when he saw the confusion on Morgana’s face. “You have seen the Mercian knights, they are already too far gone. They will not be able to make the trip there, go through what they have to, and come back without their pets… especially not with the dark moon on the horizon. It might not be _imminent_ but you must have noticed the effects of its slow approach.”

“Who do you think has been supplying the salve being littered all over the castle?” Morgana raised an eyebrow in agreement, proving she clearly had not been blind to what was going on. “And _why_ do you think less and less female maids have been around as of late? Only a very few of them remain, and I intend on having those last few safe and sound by the time the effects of the dark moon get too strong, we are in a war and I am the only one who really needs to be pregnant in such a precarious time.” Morgana raised an eyebrow with a huff. “I’ve sent most of the maids to help Owain with the swain since those wards you recently put up keep everyone but those with Owain’s permission from entering, so those inside will be safe. I’ve also asked for some lads from nearby villages to come and work the castle in their place, they are doing so with _full_ understanding of what will be asked of them, but also assurance that they will be highly rewarded for their service to their kingdom. Some are already here while others have been confirmed to be on their way.” She smirked darkly, looking incredibly proud of herself. “My Court will not suffer without holes to rut in when the time comes.”

Merlin stared at Morgana and realized Bayard had been right. She was the right queen for Mercia.

“So, saying that, I understand why you would pick knights from Camelot,” she declared, returning them to their previous topic easily.

He nodded. “A few knights of Camelot have not been touched in any way by our dark magics, and it is those who I wish to take.” He paused. “Although, Lord Percival has yet to participate in any of our rituals either, and I wish to bring him as a representative of Mercia.”

Taking in a deep breath, Morgana nodded. “Your words make sense. I see your reason.” She rubbed her stomach worriedly. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“It is a quest, it is _far_ from safe,” he chuckled darkly.

She fixed him with a glare. “You are one of the last surviving members of the Dragonlord family, Merlin. You _know_ what I am asking. Is this safe _for you_?”

He gulped, surprised at the angry worry in those blue eyes. “Bayard thought I could do it, I have to believe in his faith in me.”

Even though she nodded, Morgana reached out and gripped his hand tightly. 

Merlin smiled down comfortingly at her, before he cleared his throat. “I saw Mordred the other night.” At her worried look, Merlin hurried on. “He is fine now. I was able to renew our connection, and my magic inside of him, and when I last saw him he was safe. He _is safe_ , My Queen.”

Those blue eyes closed as utter relief filled her face. “ _Thank you_ , Merlin.” She fixed her face into regality as she finally opened her eyes with a deep breath. “You should meet with the knights you picked and leave now. Camelot and its allies march on us as we speak.”

"I will not leave this castle while the traitor is still at large." Merlin shook his head, refusing to do so, to leave Morgana so vulnerable. "I must first catch the rat."

" _How_?" Morgana asked softly.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Just continue on as if nothing is happening, and leave it all to me. There are too many eyes on you right now.”

Intrigue lit her eyes. “What are you planning, Merlin?” And yet, when all he did was smile, Morgana shook her head with a chuckle. “Let me know whatever you can when you can, Merlin, you know I enjoy a good game of cat and mouse.” And with that she turned to leave, only to let out a disbelieving breath when Merlin’s magic picked her up and took her all the way down. “I CAN TAKE THE STAIRS!” She yelled up at him yet could be heard laughing as she opened the door and said to Sefa, who’d been waiting faithfully outside: “He did it again!”

Sefa could be heard laughing as she and the queen departed.

Shaking his head, Merlin moved towards the window overlooking the knights’ training grounds, finding in pleasure that it _was_ the knights who Arthur was training, which meant that Merlin could watch him easily from his spot. Arthur wasn’t as tall and large as many of the Mercians, but he was fast, incredibly strong, and when he fought it was with the confidence of someone who was master of the blade and its uses.

He visibly gave the knights a short break and trotted over towards the bench, grabbing a cloth and dabbing it against his sweat-covered face, accepting the water Lancelot held out to him. They shared laughed words before noticing a hint of yellow, and looking up to see Guinevere smiling as she walked with Owain. The two of them were visibly close and comfortable with each other.

Immediately Arthur and Lancelot turned their gazes on Percival, who was watching Guinevere and Owain with obvious worry and jealousy. Lancelot covered his eyes and started laughing while Arthur was clearly softly telling him off for finding Percival’s so very wrongly directed jealousy amusing. The Mercian Head Knight was trying to speak through his laughter, his whole body shaking with his amusement, and even Arthur looked a little amused yet was refusing to show it, if only to stand firm to his previous convictions.

Percival looked around him quickly, noted some yellow flowery weeds growing, and squared his shoulders as he stormed towards them and yanked them out before turning to look at Guinevere.

Arthur realized immediately what was going on and hissed something to Lancelot in obvious terror.

While he wouldn’t stop laughing, Lancelot parted his fingers so he could peek through them and watch what was about to happen.

Arthur sent him a ‘you’re impossible!’ kind of look before rushing towards Percival, who was still visibly trying to gather his courage.

Lancelot suddenly froze and looked around, his expression going from evilly amused to incredibly happy as he smiled, turning his back on Arthur and Percival, holding his arms out and engulfing Cassius and Lucan (who was on his hip) tightly, pressing a kiss to their son’s forehead before kissing Cassius’ lips.

Cassius asked something.

Amusement once more evil, Lancelot shifted his hold on Cassius and turned them to get a view of where Arthur was visibly trying to stall and preoccupy Percival. Lancelot was whispering in Cassius’ ear, clearly filling him in on what was going on and why he was so amused.

Cassius blinked, and even from this distance he could be seen mouthing in absolute confusion: _’How does he_ ** _not_** _know about Guinevere and the Queen?’_

Lancelot shrugged, clearly not getting it either. He whispered something in Cassius’ ear that made Cassius elbow him in the ribs, and Lancelot laughed while pressing a kiss to Cassius’ hair and leaning his head against the Court Physician’s as they both watched Arthur doing his very best to distract and stall Percival, who looked at Arthur in total confusion, clearly not sure what the blonde was going on about.

Other than seeming to be amused in an evilly Mercian way, Lancelot did not seem to have any feelings about his secret lover so clearly being enamored with someone else. He also didn’t even seem to feel any sort of guilt or awkwardness towards including Cassius in the situation, which surprised Merlin somewhat. Still, he supposed it was not his own relationship and he had learned from childhood never to judge anyone or the way they led their lives - not with the way he’d found himself forced to live his own.

Sir Elyan called out to his sister and Owain, hurrying up towards them, causing the two to turn towards him.

Percival, upon seeing Sir Elyan, quickly hid the flowery weeds behind his back and quickly dropped them, wiping his hands behind him very quickly.

Arthur, sensing the danger had passed, smiled in relief and ushered Percival to where Cassius, Lancelot and Lucan were. Percival grinned very brightly when he saw Cassius and Lucan, and when the kid reached his hands out towards him Percival - forgetting about Guinevere - laughed and grabbed the kid, holding him up above his head and moving him about as if he were flying. This was clearly something he did all the time and something that Lucan adored.

Lancelot took the opportunity to slip around Cassius to whisper something to Arthur, who pouted at him. Cassius, who’d heard that, rolled his eyes and went over to where Percival and Lucan were playing, the Court Physician sharing a huge smile with the Mercian Lord before he placed his hand on Lord Percival’s shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly while saying something that had Percival sighing and lowering his head with a nod.

Cassius motioned to the destroyed remains of the flowery weed and said something before he took Lucan from Percival’s hands and passed the boy to Lancelot, who looked surprised to have his hands full of his son. The Court Physician then took in a deep breath and motioned for Percival to follow him. The Mercian lord looked a little confused but nodded and followed Cassius as the other man led him away.

Arthur asked something which Lancelot shrugged to, before Lucan reached out, grabbed and tugged at his father's hair, and distracted them all from whatever was happening between Cassius and Percival.

Merlin watched them for a little longer until Percival and Cassius returned, the large lord visibly pale, hurt, and confused. He spoke to Arthur and Lancelot quietly, his gaze going forlornly towards the crushed remains of the flowery weed.

Lancelot, for his part, no longer looked amused as he nodded.

Arthur placed a hand on Percival’s shoulder.

Percival looked up to where Guinevere and Owain were still talking to Sir Elyan, before he looked back down and sighed in visible heartbreak. It would appear that Cassius had taken pity on the man and explained to him what the other two could - _would_ \- not, about Guinevere’s relationship with the queen. 

Hearing the cry of a bird of prey, Merlin looked up to see Archimedes descending towards him. The sorcerer held his arm up for the owl to land heavily on, and once he did Merlin rubbed the bird with the back of his fingers before accepting the letter Archimedes held out towards him in his talon. As soon as Merlin had the message Archimedes took off, clearly headed towards the owlery.

Opening the message he’d expected given he’d sent Archimedes to Caerleon for a reason, Merlin’s lips twitched. There was Gwaine’s messy scrawl there, his letter not as long as Merlin’s had been andthe Caerleonian hadn’t even bothered to include the normal pleasantries expected of written communication.

This letter was incredibly Gwaine, starting with Gwaine addressing the part of Merlin’s letter that had clearly stood out most to him.

**_So you’ve made him a princess, huh? Well, I do not know how to take this because while a part of me is very amused at the idea of ‘Camelot’s Princess’ the other wants to remind you that Camelot will never truly accept the relationship. It is also an ally for now, but how much longer will that last once peace has been achieved?_ **

**_Caerleon will remain faithful to Mercia, and to you, but we cannot promise any loyalty to Camelot._ **

**_Also - how’s the Princess handling being around the King? That has GOT to be awkward all around! I wish I could see it! We don’t like Camelot OR Northumbria so this would be very fun to see indeed!_ **

**_In regards to the ACTUAL reason of your letter, I understand your need for discretion and why you would seek assistance from someone outside of Mercia. Of course I will help, Merlin. You know that I will. I will work on my side and have what I can ready for whenever you have need of it._ **

**_I’d also like to thank you for offering to add your own protective wards to those already in Caerleon. Father was very happy to hear of your willingness to journey to Caerleon to do so, but wished me to assure you that Caerleon’s defenses are strong and will not be breached._ **

**_There also seems to be something strange happening within the allied forces. The reports we are getting are conflicting. I will not say more until I have something more concrete to relay._ **

**_The only thing our sources agree on is that the King AA (who goes by two names these days?) must know what your druid is doing because there is a warrant and reward out for his capture and return to Camelot. So far Mordred has been able to elude captivity but should he wish to continue free he should return to Mercia as soon as he can._ **

**_Anyway, my friend. As always know you can count on me, as I know I can count on you._ **

**_Gwaine - the best looking person you know (Lancelot does not count because obviously there’s some fey in him or something)._ **

Able to perfectly picture Gwaine’s expressions while writing this, Merlin shook his head with soft laughter. He folded up the letter and placed it in his pocket, and by the time he glanced back down the knights and Arthur, were all practicing once more.

Gwaine’s warning regarding Mordred only backed up last night’s situation and Merlin’s own fear. He tried to reach out to Mordred, tried to find that connection between them, but it was closed for now. _Come back to Mercia, Mordred_ , he tried to push through anyway.

Sighing, Merlin pushed away from the windowsill and went to prepare for what he must do.

* * *

 

Merlin had not meant to overhear anything. He’d been restless, with Arthur being increasingly busy and Merlin’s own preparations keeping him on edge he’d gone for a walk around the castle in an effort to work off some of his anxious energy this way.

“I hate to say it, but Lord Valiant makes a good point.”

Those were enough words to cloak himself and remain on the other side of the bend.

“How can we trust her when it is _her_ uncle who we are fighting against?” Another voice wanted to know, worried. “And yes, the king did kill her father, but she made no secret how much she despised Uther. For all we know they are working together in this.”

“And with the way Bayard spoiled her, allowing her to tup with who she wished, we cannot be sure whether that child is his or _Owain_ ’s.” This was yet another voice. “We just have her and the Grand Court Sorcerer’s words for it, and _he_ is another worry.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“He is Mercian. And even if his parents were from Camelot they were exiled. That boy grew up Mercian, in these Courts. He would not betray us to Camelot,” another hissed angrily.

“I am not saying _that_ ,” the voice from before snapped back. “I am saying that he would have lied had King Bayard requested him to do so, and that loyalty would keep him lying regarding the paternity of that child even after Bayard’s death. Also, his relationship with the Heir of Camelot is worrisome. You have heard the rumors. What if he wishes to go with Arthur to Camelot? We will lose him and remain with what? An heir we cannot be sure is truly Bayard's?”

“He’s right and you know it,” a new voice hissed. “The only one we know for _sure_ is royalty by blood is _Valiant_. Considering all the doubts being place on Queen Morgana, who only has a ‘right’ to the throne because she opened her legs for our late king, can she truly be trusted to lead us in a time like this? Especially when we cannot be sure that child of hers is actually the heir to the throne? As it is, _Valiant_ has more right to lead than she does!”

Normally, should he overhear these sorts of conversations, Merlin would step in and diffuse the situation and egos, and yet he remained in the shadows listening to the extent of dissension beginning to grow in Mercia’s ranks.

"And who does she have acting as the head Knight of this kingdom? Does she have a Mercian?  _No_." That was yet a new voice. "She has that pretty boy half brother of hers!"

"Lancelot is the Head Knight," another new voice spoke up immediately. "Prince Arthur is more like  _Merlin’s_ knight than the kingdom's. It is different.”

“Whatever he is, for being the heir to a rival throne, future king to a kingdom King Bayard never made secret he coveted, that boy is in _far_ too intimate a position. Not only is he the brother of Mercia’s Queen, but he is the Consort of our Grand Court Sorcerer, and is deeply imbedded within our knights and the swain. You all worry about Queen Morgana, but it is _Prince Arthur_ who is _by far_ the greatest threat to Mercia.”

“The child the queen carries _may_ be Bayard’s,” the same voice who’d defended Arthur previously reminded. “And if so—-.”

“And how would we be able to discern this? The only sorcerer I would trust to actually have the power to do that is Merlin, and we cannot trust that he would tell us the truth. Not only out of loyalty to Bayard, but in an effort to keep the shame from being known.” He sighed. “It was long rumored that Bayard was unable to have children, which was why his marriage to his previous wife never bore any fruit. It would not be _unthinkable_ that he might wish to pass Owain’s child off as his own to keep us all from having this exact conversation.”

“He is _right_ ,” the first voice whispered shakily. “It would also explain the rumors that the Grand Court Sorcerer has not renewed his vow of loyalty to the queen _or_ her child.”

Silence fell amongst the group before they all started whispering rapidly at once.

Unnoticed by the group, Merlin slipped away into the shadows.

* * *

 

Once again, Lancelot did not seem surprised to hear of the grave news Merlin brought him. In fact, the Head Knight of Mercia leaned heavily against his own desk, upon which rested his elbows, his forehead pressed into his palms.

“How long have you been diffusing this sort of situation?” Merlin wanted to know in realization that this must be much more of a common occurrence than he’d suspected.

“Ever since the king’s death,” Lancelot admitted tiredly as he shifted his hands to now rub his temples. “There had been rumors and questions beforehand due to just how quickly the queen had managed to conceive, there were some who believed she was given to us impregnated, I believe there are still some who still think this. Bayard tupped maids ever since Queen Marguerite’s death, and none have ever even had a pregnancy scare. In many ways I cannot blame the Court for suspecting ill against the queen as the whole situation was fraught with suspicion.” He finally looked up at Merlin. “Do not misunderstand, Merlin, the people love her as a Queen, but I do not believe they are ready to accept her as Queen Regent, especially not with all of the issues we have been having thanks to her blood relatives - her uncle, father, _brother_.” He sent Merlin a knowing look. “I am also not surprised at what you heard being said about _Arthur_. Those are _also_ not new worries amongst the Court.”

“So you believe Valiant might have a growing group of loyalists amongst the Mercian Court.” Merlin read in between the lines. “You believe he might make a play for the throne.”

“I believe he has a better chance at success now than he ever wouldshould he do so _correctly_.” Lancelot sidestepped. “There are those who, given we are so close to such a disastrous war, would prefer a battle-seasoned warrior on the throne rather than a pregnant foreigner who might be carrying a manservant’s bastard."

Merlin searched immediately for that connection between him and Mordred but found it closed still. It had been closed since the last time Mordred had reached out for him, and Merlin could feel his previous wish for Mordred to return still awaiting to be transmitted - which was something new and had not happened before. Usually if the connection was not open his thoughts and worries would disappear.

**_Mordred. Return to Mercia. There is a threat to your sister. She needs you here._ **

The Grand Court Sorcerer looked up at Lancelot before getting up and leaving the Head Knight’s office, no doubt confusing his friend, but he could not explain himself, not yet. 

Merlin might just have a plan to stall what was gearing up to start, at least until they had something which might help turn the tides.

* * *

 

To catch a rat one had to lay a trap and entice their prey with cheese or whatever tempted it. Were Merlin sure of whom the traitor was he'd have found it easy to bait the trap, and yet he couldn't discard anyone, not even Arthur. He didn't believe that the boy prince was the traitor, not in the least bit, but to do a thorough job he had to act on his own and trust no one. Time was ticking away, the sorcerer losing precious time to this mission to catch the vermin infesting their walls. If he wished to journey to find that which he had sought for so long, retrieve it (which wouldn't be an easy feat) and be back before the first swords clashed in war, he would have to discover the traitor very soon and do away with him or her.

"What I am about to say cannot leave this room." Merlin stared at the most respected and important knights, lords, druids and sorcerers in the Court congregated in the room, the queen sitting on the throne, only the most trusted servants in attendance. Simon nor his men were here as the traitor had done his or her work before their arrival. "But tonight the security of the castle must be doubled."

Lord Percival frowned as he leaned forwards. "Why is this?"

Queen Morgana, the only one who knew of the plan, played her part. "We will not go into specifics, Lord Percival, but all we shall say is that tonight Merlin's magic is vulnerable."

Merlin could feel everyone's eyes on him and he refused to meet any of them, even Arthur’s, knowing how his reactions would be read. "Tonight is a night that I must spend in complete solitude, and due to-." He cleared his throat, letting them all come up with whatever scenario they might to finish that sentence. "The magic in my anchors, in my protections, will be weakened drastically." His expression was grave. "There is no reason to believe that Aurelius Ambrosius or his sorcerer would attack tonight of all nights, I have always managed to keep this night and its effects on me concealed, but should luck not be on our side I want the guards to be doubled." He clenched his hands tightly into fists at his side. "I will not have the queen fall, as did our king, due to my own inability to protect as I should."

"I knew there were nights in which you isolated yourself in your tower, but I never realized that it was due to some affliction." Lancelot, of course, appeared to be concerned over Merlin's health. "Are you ill?"

Merlin felt a little guilt for not telling Lancelot, but he and the Queen had agreed that only the two of them would know of the plan as it was being implemented. The less amount of people who knew, the less chance that the plan would be discovered by the traitor.

Arthur frowned, silent, blue gaze on Merlin questioningly.

"What is important is the fact that tonight the castle will be vulnerable to an attack." The Queen brought the attention back to the matter at hand. "As he has done in the past, Merlin will be spend the night hours in his tower until the first light of dawn.”

From where he sat, with Daegal seated on his lap, Valiant’s eyes narrowed. “Are we to understand that our Grand Court Sorcerer is _weakened_?”

Honestly, Merlin found it hard not to shake his head at the man.

“That is not important,” Queen Morgana began.

“Yes, it is,” Lord Valiant interrupted immediately as he surprised everyone by grabbing Daegal and shoving him roughly onto the lap of the man next to him so he could glare up at the queen with nothing blocking his view. “Surely, had he not been foolishly spoiled and allowed to continue in this folly of tupping just _one_ person, he would not be as weak as he is that now. It is to the point that we actually needed to be told. _King Bayard_ made sure that one of Mercia’s greatest weapons was _always_ kept _sharpened_.”

Murmurs whispered around the knights, lords, druids and sorcerers of the kingdom.

“And what exactly would you have me do?” Morgana asked in a very dark tone. 

“What the _king_ would have done! What _any warrior_ would have _known_ had to be done!” Lord Valiant snarled. “You are young, Queen Morgana, you are inexperienced in both rulership and war, _and it shows_.” 

“You will do good to remember, Lord Valiant,” Lancelot spoke very softly yet with a hint of threatening steel, “that you are speaking to your queen.”

“Am I?” Valiant wanted to know darkly before standing and looking around him at the knights, warriors, druids and sorcerers who made up the inner circle of the Mercian Court. “ _Are_ we?” He turned his back on the queen in a show of disrespect as he addressed the others in the room with him. “ **ARE WE**?” 

The murmurs rose steadily amongst the court.

Merlin watched everyone with worry, ready and willing to intercept any advance on the queen.

“ _She_ was Bayard’s folly! The beginning of his end! We would have already won the war, would already have taken Camelot as _ours_ had it not been for _her_! The Grand Court Sorcerer had _decimated_ Camelot’s troops! They were _ripe for the picking!_ THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN PLUCKED!” He slammed his fist down on the table as voices began to agree throughout the room. “Had we taken them then - had we ignored the _clear_ trap they extended by throwing this woman at our king - _Camelot would no longer exist_! There would be no threat! THIS WAR WOULD NOT BE HAPPENING!”

More words of agreement. More unrest. More arguing amongst those in the room.

Arthur shifted away from Merlin, it was subtle, extremely so, but Merlin noticed it, and so did Morgana, who looked as if Arthur’s move protectively towards her was more shocking than the Mercian Court’s actions.

“You cannot blame King Bayard’s actions, his decisions, on Queen Morgana,” Lord Percival declared as he also stood and glared at Valiant. “Or are you calling the late king _weak_ and _easily fooled_ , Lord Valiant?”

More murmurs. More division.

“Of course Escetia would side with her, they are not truly us, they belonged to her sister.” Valiant pointed to Lord Percival before he turned once more to the others. “This is a play for Mercia, do not be fooled. While Camelot comes at us from without, they will come for us from within! They put their princess in King Bayard’s bed and _both_ of her _brothers_ in that of the Grand Court Sorcerer!” Valiant snarled as he pointed towards the two of them. “They’ve already killed Bayard, and now they seem to have set their sights on _him_. Already they have weakened him to this state!” 

Someone slammed their sword down on the ground. People were yelling, turning against each other as different sides continued to grow as fear and suspicion filled the Mercian Court.

Lord Valiant shook his head. "I can no longer merely sit silently and watch Mercia - _our kingdom_ \- be destroyed without doing anything to stop it. Not when _our home_ is in such terrible peril." He finally turned and fixed the Queen with a glare. "I am assuming military control and leadership of this kingdom. You will be afforded the respect a king’s widow deserves, but you will no longer have any control or say in this kingdom, its citizens, or the war. Those decisions will be handled by _me_.”

Morgana merely eyed him in silence before her lips tilted. "Are you now? What makes you believe yourself worthy?”

Her response obviously infuriated him, Lord Valiant's face turning red. "I have a  _blood right_  to this throne! I am  _kin_  to the late king!"

"My  _child_  is the  _only_  heir to Bayard's throne, Valiant." Morgana declared without any anger or worry, her gaze on him. "But should you wish to contest my Queenship, should you wish to start a revolt against me in my darkest hour, when my Court Sorcerer is as powerless as a mere mortal to stop you then  _fine_." She stood from her throne, tall and proud, far more regal than Valiant could ever hope to be. “Knights, Lords, Druids and Sorcerers of Mercia, Escetia and those who fled Camelot and sought refuge within these walls, you have heard the challenge issued against me by Lord Valiant. Stand tall, stand proud, and stand next to the monarch  _you_ acknowledge."

The command echoed through the room loudly.

For a split second there was no movement whatsoever, and then almost as one Lancelot, Arthur and Percival made their way towards Queen Morgana. Their movement spurred the other Knights into action. The room split, those of Escetia and Camelot all going toMorgana’s side, with many from Mercia as well, yet there was a good number of those who moved to side with Valiant, some of those people incredibly surprising to say the least.

In the end Daegal was the only one remaining who had not picked a side. The druid sat very worriedly, looking down at his clenched hands, before he finally stood and hurriedly made his way towards the dais to stand next to Merlin, keeping his head very low, no doubt terrified of Valiant’s reaction to his betrayal.

Merlin praised the boy for making the tough choice by placing his hand on his shoulder and drawing him in comfortingly, which Daegal welcomed with obvious relief as he hid his face from everyone in Merlin’s robes, the druid shaking very visibly. Merlin then raised his gaze to meet Valiant’s angry dark orbs, confronting him on Daegal’s behalf.

“Is this your final answer?” Queen Morgana asked Lord Valiant and those on his side.

“ _We_ are Mercia, _we_ are the Mercian Court!” Lord Valiant snarled at her. “Only _we_ have our kingdom’s best interests at heart!” Those around him agreed.

“Understood.” The queen nodded before turning to Merlin. “As always, your counsel was wise, Grand Court Sorcerer.”

Confusion began to appear on everyone’s faces.

“Truly, in this room, _you_ are the most Mercian.” Morgana’s gaze was solely on Merlin as a smirk touched her lips. “Do it.”

In seconds Merlin’s eyes glowed a brighter gold than they ever had, tapping into the accumulation of power he’d saved from the night Arthur had become Consort, draining it very quickly as he held out his hands towards the surprised Mercians and… with a flash of blinding gold… they all disappeared.

As soon as it was done, Merlin leaned heavily on Daegal, who looked up at him in surprise yet somehow kept a hold of him.

“What—what _happened_?” Joffrey squeaked from where he stood.

“Where _are_ they?” Sir Montague wanted to know, one hand on his sword’s hilt and the other around Geraint’s forearm.

“In the dungeons, which were prepared in advance to accommodate whoever was taken to them, no matter how large the group was,” Merlin groaned in pain, that having taken more out of him than he’d even expected. Teleporting was hard enough on him as it was, but when he had to do so with multiple people…

“ _Merlin_?” Arthur hurried towards him, grabbing him from his other side, helping Daegal support his weight.

“You anticipated that the revelation of your weakened state might cause this uprising to happen,” Lancelot realized softly before he snarled and went towards Merlin. “You _fool_! You _know_ how moving people like that drains you and yet you still did it despite being so _weak_?” He surprised both Daegal and Arthur - but none more than Merlin - by shoving them out of the way and picking Merlin up into his arms before turning to the queen. “My Queen, I ask permission to be excused so that I may take _this idiot_ to Cassius.”

Morgana’s face was impassive as she nodded. “Please do, Sir Lancelot.”

“Arthur, go ahead and warn Cassius what has happened,” Lancelot ordered while rearranging Merlin’s weight in his arm. “How could you be so—-?” That was clearly directed at Merlin, but the sorcerer didn’t hear it, as he’d already closed his eyes and gone limp.

* * *

 In the dark of the night, amidst the chaos as news spread of Lord Valiant and his accomplices being thrown into the dungeons for trying to usurp the throne, a figure made its way towards the owl tower. The castle was in an uproar, stations left, leaving it easy for one lone person to slip through and make it towards the owls, a tied parchment in hand. The fastest owl was selected, the person shrouded in darkness, pausing when the sound of conversing guards passed outside the door. Once the guards passed the traitor's actions were resumed, tying the parchment to the owl's leg and taking the creature to the window, setting it free after whispering a magical word in its ear. The traitor wasn't magic, Camelot's sorcerer had obviously already spelled this specific owl for this purpose, for communication, and with this one word could it be achieved.

The creature took to the sky to deliver its message when suddenly a larger, swifter, far more cunning creature swooped down on it, tackling the owl to the ground and ripping the parchment away before taking to the skies and returning to the owlery and perched on the large open window frame.

"Good job, Archimedes,” Merlin praised, emerging from the shadows, running his finger over his helper's feathers.

" _Merlin_!" The traitor's eyes widened, taking a step back, the door slamming shut behind him as from the shadows Queen Morgana, Sir Percival and Sir Lancelot emerged.

Archimedes ruffled his feathers in obvious pride before reaching out his leg to Merlin, the rolled up parchment between his talons.

The other owl, dazed and confused from the attack and yet unharmed, returned to the owlery, hooting.

Merlin raised his hand towards the creature, removing the spell on it and healing any injury it might have sustained, before turning his gaze to the traitor as the Queen joined Merlin's side. "Tell me, what were you doing here, sending out an owl at this time of night?"

"I-I-." And yet the blonde couldn't find anything he could say that would make what Merlin would find in the parchment less damning.

Merlin read the words aloud for all present. "Mercia is vulnerable. The Grand Court Sorcerer is weakened. The castle is in an uproar due to Lord Valiant's ill attempt at uprising, as was expected. It is ripe for the picking. Send your sorcerer and your assassins now and remember my price."

The Queen's gaze was cold. "What  _was_ your price for the life of my unborn child and so many others, Sir Joffrey?"

Joffrey merely sneered at her.

“Remain silent if that is truly your wish, in truth I do not care and it is of no importance either way." Morgana turned to Lancelot. "Have Joffrey taken to the solitary cell awaiting him in the dungeons, he will stay there until his execution." Her hardened gaze returned to the young traitor. "We will ride into battle with your head on our spear and show Aurelius Ambrosius and all his men the  _true price_  of assuming that Mercia or its allied forces are weak and ready for the picking."

* * *

 

A part of Arthur was hurt that he hadn't been included in the deception, and yet he could understand why he hadn't been. In fact, Merlin was protecting him by not doing so, because by not including Arthur at all he'd proven the blonde's loyalty to any that might have doubted and suspected  _him_  the traitor. Arthur still found it hard to believe that _Joffrey_ was the traitor though. The boy was around his age and was more spoilt than truly  _evil_ , and yet the facts spoke for themselves. He was also not denying anything. In fact, ever since he'd been thrown into the dungeons Joffrey hadn't said a word, merely sneered at everyone.

It would have made more sense had Lord Valiant been the traitor! But at least  _he_  was in the dungeons as well, and that gave Arthur a little dark thrill, thinking about how their circumstances had completely changed from the first time he'd met the brutish knight.

The smile slipped from Arthur's lips though as his gaze rested on Merlin. While the story of this night making Merlin weak had apparently been a lie, the fact was that Merlin _was_ weaker. He’d lost consciousness due to transporting that many Mercians into the cells waiting for them. He was also clearly still weak yet fighting not to show it, and yet Arthur knew his sorcerer and could see the signs of hunger, could see the demon behind those eyes shifting around in need of every kind, begging for Merlin to just focus on his own necessities instead of the kingdom’s.

Merlin, of course, was not listening to his demon, and that worried Arthur. He’d wanted to pull Merlin away to give him _something_ to help quench the hunger, had _tried_ to, but Merlin had given him a shaky smile, shook his head, and had returned to doing what was needed of him. Even now though, as Merlin spoke to Sir Bertrand, his hand was clenched at a fist at his side, and was trembling.

“He needs to feed, Arthur,” Cassius whispered as he came to stand by Arthur’s side, his gaze on Merlin as well.

“I know that, but he won’t leave, and he won’t let me—.” Arthur ran his fingers through his hair in worry.

“I don’t mean that,” Cassius sighed as he turned to face Arthur. “I mean he _needs_ to feed.”

And then Arthur understood what Cassius was saying, and went pale.

“Just as you and Lancelot would not tell Percival the obvious issue with his feelings for Guinevere to spare his feelings, they will not tell you or Merlin what is _also_ obvious to spare _yours_.” Cassius shook his head. “I am different in this regards. I do not mind playing the villain if it means protecting. I would prefer to hurt someone’s feelings now but help them in the long run.” He reached out and gripped Arthur’s shoulders tightly. “Arthur, I say this because I knew Merlin before even Lancelot did. I've known Merlin since he was a child, I’ve known him since before Julius—I was Julius' apprentice—I _know_ Merlin, Arthur.” There was grave conviction and utter worry in his eyes. “He is deteriorating. He _needs_ to feed.” His eyes searched Arthur’s. “Do you _understand_ what I am trying to tell you?”

Arthur’s stomach clenched, and it was hard to breathe, but he understood. “I do.”

Cassius must’ve seen something in his eyes because he nodded and squeezed Arthur’s shoulders. “He will not listen to us, Arthur. Only you.” And with that, and one last worried look in Merlin’s direction, Cassius turned and left.

Merlin patted Sir Bertrand's shoulder with a nod before moving away, gaze falling on Arthur and lips pulling in an instinctive smile. As if just the sight of Arthur made him happy.

Despite the nausea churning within him, Arthur couldn't help but return that smile as Merlin arrived at his side.

"Arthur, Merlin.” Lancelot motioned for them. "The Queen wishes to speak with you in her chambers."

Arthur sent Merlin a look, the sorcerer not appearing surprised or curious, giving the impression that he'd been expecting this and knew what this was about. The exiled prince didn't question though, merely followed after Lancelot into the Queen's chambers, where he found Sir Leon, Lord Percival and Sir Elyan already there with the queen. He sent a little look in Merlin's direction as the doors closed behind them, and yet Merlin merely strode towards Queen Morgana, both sets of blue orbs meeting as they nodded to each other.

Merlin took his place next to the queen, turning to look at the warriors. "What is to be discussed here is not to leave this room." His gaze took in the silent nods before he continued. "Before his death, King Bayard had me researching a way to win the war with Camelot. There was a weapon wrapped in lore and shrouded in myth to the extent that it wasn't known if it truly existed, but I have determined that it is real and have also discovered its location."

"This is why you've been slaving over those books in your tower…” Arthur whispered, everything finally making sense.

Merlin nodded. "It is a weapon that could turn the tide in this war."

"Merlin will lead a small group to find, recover, and retrieve the weapon in secret." Morgana eyed them with grave intent. "He has handpicked you four for the mission." Her gaze went to Lancelot. "Sir Lancelot, you will be remaining in Mercia as you are my right hand and I need you in this time of peril more than ever."

"Of course, my Queen." Sir Lancelot nodded, clearly humbled at the faith she showed him and his service.

“My Queen, what is this weapon you speak of?” Lord Percival wanted to know curiously. “How can one thing be so powerful that it could, as you put it, turn the tide in this war?”

Instead of answering, Morgana turned to Merlin and nodded for him to do so instead.

Merlin sighed, stepping forwards, as his gaze landed on Lord Percival, but his tone of voice indicated that he was addressing them all. "I speak of the Dragonblade."

Arthur's eyes widened as hushed, _awed_ , silence fell over the room.

Merlin had managed to find the legendary  _Excalibur_.


End file.
